Lapis Luzali
by Voice of the Shadow Realm
Summary: Ever since he could remember, Mana has followed him wherever he has gone, his constant companion. As Atem grows, he discovers that from a strong friendship, a deeper connection often springs. Re-rated as an 'M' fic. Very lemony in later chapters...
1. Divine Vision

**Author's Note:**

A carry on to my one-shot Oasis. I know I chapter-titled it but on reflection I think it is fine that way but after receiving a few reviews within twelve hours of it being posted (best response ever) I decided to actually attempt a multi-chaptered fiction with that pairing... I do not know the correct terminology for Mana/Atem pairings so any suggestions or if you know it please let me know. Also I have decided to begin this story before the Prince's birth.

**Disclaimer:**

Um, yeah... No... I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! but thank's for asking.

**Lapis Lazuli.**

**Chapter. 1: Divine Vision.**

The Saker Falcon wheeled and dipped against the hard blue of the Egyptian skies, its voice carrying across Pharaoh's kingdom.

Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen brushed aside the light linen curtain that concealed an archway, leading to a balcony. Deep creases of worry scored his forehead, mingling with the age lines that were already present. Holding himself with poise and pride, he was indeed cut from a kings cloth. Despite being at forty years of age, Pharaoh still held his youthful beauty. Long, clean limbs and a flat hard belly. His head was leonine and his hair, though thick, had turned silver. Unlike most men, who shaved their heads at the first sign of grey, Pharaoh was proud of the silver.

He strode to the rail surrounding the balcony, tracing his fingers idly along the hard and cold marble. So deep in thought, was the Pharaoh that, he almost didn't hear the predatory cries of the God-bird overhead. He lifted his head and peered up at skies. The sunlight glinted upon the rich glossy crimson feathers of the Saker Falcon as it drew its black tipped sickle wings back, hanging motionless in the air before dropping in a free fall.

"Magnificent creatures are they not, Majesty?"

Pharaoh blinked. The voice shocked him from the hypnotic trance the bird had put him in. As he turned from watching the bird who now beat its wings and rose majestically high into the air once more, grasping a dead pigeon in one deadly talon.

He sighed through clenched teeth and pressed a palm to his forehead and shut his eyes for a moment. "I am lost, Siamun."

"Lost Majesty?" Siamun stepped forward cautiously, his deep violet eyes glittered in confused awe.

"I require the guidance of the Gods... That is why I summoned you to me."

A cold wave gripped Siamun's gut, he slowly realized the reasoning behind the words. "The Mazes of Ammon-Ra..." he murmured.

"I am an old man, Siamun." With a sigh that shuddered through his aging body, Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen turned to face the Priest. "Work the Mazes for me. Use the Divine gift that the Gods bestowed upon you and tell me what is to become of my Great Dynasty."

Siamun bowed his head respectfully and took a step back. "My Pharaoh. Please understand. The power of the Mazes are not to be taken without care and understanding. Channeling the will of the Gods is taxing. I shall not be able to attend to the Queen should she begin her labour within the time span of the next few days." He knew he was chancing Pharaoh's wrath by denying him his wishes and using the birth of his first-born as a shield.

Akhenamkhanen met the Priests eyes with a hard glare, his face darkened in outrage. "You deny me, Siamun Muran?" he challenged.

He shrank back from under the Pharaoh's cold glare. "No, my Pharaoh... I..."

Before the Priest could continue, Akhenamkhanen dropped to his knees and grasped the hem of the robes Siamun wore and spoke softly, in a voice more fitting a scolded child that of a God-King. "Please, my old friend. Work the Mazes. Tell me that the womb of my Queen protects both my son, and the security of my Dynasty. Tell me I have seeded a King who shall protect and bring peace to this wounded Egypt. Tell me these things that I ask you, Siamun."

Siamun's shoulders sagged forward as he sighed out a deep exhale, then he smiled weakly. "Very well. But should your Queen discover I have worked the Mazes so close to the Royal Birth, she is sure to have me strangled."

Akhenamkhanen pressed his forehead to the floor before the Priests feet. "You have my gratitude Siamun Muran. My gratitude and my protection from the Queen's temper."

The Priest shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, obviously distressed by the idea of Pharaoh, the God-King, bowing before him. "Pharaoh does not belong on his knees before a lowly servant."

With a grunt, the aging King pushed himself to his feet and staggered momentarily as he regained his balance. "I see no servant, I see my Priest and my dear friend."

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Long fingers of flame flickering from candles, caused the shadows in the chamber to dance over Siamun's hunched form as he prepared the mixture of herbs that are necessary to open the eyes of his Ka, ready to receive the Divine visions he was about to invoke.

With trembling hands he lifted the potion to his lips and swallowed.

Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen knelt before his Priest and watched him with a keen fascination as he removed a goatskin pouch from his hip and drew from within, ten ivory discs. Each disc represented a single episode of human existence; from birth to death, and then into the afterlife.

He split and divided the discs until only two remained. Lifting one in each hand, he breathed upon them and fondled them until the smooth ivory warmed with his own life-force. He closed his eyes as his stomach lurched wit the un-nerving sensation of his mental self being drawn from his earthly vessel.

"What do you see?"

"I hear an infant... crying. A new-born."

Akhenamkhanen groped at Siamun's robes in desperation. "An infant? Is it a boy? Is it the security to this very Egypt's future? Tell me Siamun, do not toy with me!" The words throbbed in the Priests mind, so he felt them rather than heard them.

Slowly a vision hardened within Siamun's mind. A child. Above it a Saker Falcon called. A child of Royal blood. The infant lay, still in its birth waters and with the fat placenta coiled upon its belly still, like a python sunning itself. Again the God-bird shrieked ensuring of the child's rise to Pharaoh. Then the infant wailed again and kicked both its legs into the air. With that simple movement Siamun could see, rising between the child's chubby thighs, a finger of flesh.

Gasping for air, Siamun's eyes burst open and the orbs roved in his skull, unseeing. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus.

Pharaoh grasped him about his bicep and shook him firmly. "Siamun...SIAMUN!! What of the vision?"

"A boy..." he croaked, then wetted his lips. "Your son."

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As Siamun feared, his services were required the following night to birth the Royal Prince.

Late into the nights second watch, he had been roughly awoken by one of the Queen's hand-maidens and informed him that the Queen had pushed off into her labour. With barely the time to bless his instruments and scrub his arms with hot wine, Siamun readied himself to receive the child.

Finally, after what seemed to the Priest like days, he held a very still and very limp child in his arms. The birth had been long and strenuous for both the Queen and the infant, and now the sun shone brilliantly through the linen curtains. Siamun glanced up and held the concerned gaze of the Pharaoh who had hung back throughout the labour, his face drawn and ashen.

Exhausted, and with her hair plastered to her face, the Queen lifted herself to her elbows. "Why..." she swallowed. "Why does he not cry?"

Siamun felt his stomach plummet. _**No! The Mazes could not be wrong!**_

Closing his eyes, he willed away the tears and silently prayed to Isis...

... Then the air was split with a loud wail. Angry and hot with temper, the Prince thrashed and kicked wildly in his arms.

Siamun breathed softly, releasing the tight coil of fear from his chest. Quickly he cut the cord and wiped the birthing mucus from the squalling and squirming infant, and wrapped him in a clean linen sheet, before presenting him to Akhenamkhanen.

Pharaoh gazed in wonder at the tiny and fragile creature in his arms. His son. A smile graced his lips as his new-born continued to thrash and and kick in stubborn protest. "Already you show the courage and strength to lead this very Egypt from the shadows of a torn and battered nation and into the golden light of unity, prosperity and greatness." he told the child softly and brushed aside the linen curtain that led onto the balcony.

Siamun followed him. "My King?"

Akhenamkhanen turned and gazed into the eyes of the Priest and grinned widely at the man. "Siamun... The Mazes.." Unable to complete a full sentence, he immediately focused his attentions back on his son in his arms. "Is he not perfect?"

"A blessing, my Pharaoh. He has been born under the guidance of Horus. He shall hold a strong heart within his breast. Wisdom and honesty. He shall indeed make a fine ruler."

"Then let us delay the nation no longer. Let them welcome my son into the world."

The Market Plaza below the Palace heaved with the populace of the Kingdom, eagerly anticipating the presentation of the Royal child. The news had spread quickly throughout the lands since the blowing of the horn at the start of the Queen's labour, and many had been waiting outside the Palace since the powerful sound had echoed throughout the kingdom...

As the crowd chattered amongst themselves, a young woman weaved a path around the milling bodies. Glaring white hair spilled over her shoulders and her clear blue eyes were down-cast. She was of the Tehenu people, thieves and slaves turned free. She drew her shawl closer over her head to cover her hair. She should not be here. Tehenun people were not welcome here.

Slung across her chest, she wore a linen pouch. She was a new mother herself and nestled deep in the sling lay her son. His thick pelt of white hair fell into his face as he whimpered and squirmed closer to her warmth before settling with a squeak.

"Hush now, Little One." she soothed. "Hush."

"Bak-her! Pharaoh!" came the eager shout from a small boy who could not seem to seem to keep still. His mother hissed and cuffed him about the ear "Be still Boy." she told the whelp sternly.

From the balcony above, Pharaoh raised his hand for silence. "Pharaoh speaks." his voice rang out across the plaza, clear and strong. "Born under the guidance of Horus, Son of Divine Father Osiris. I present to you, the people of this very Egypt, the Crowned Prince Atem."

He raised the infant above his head to the swell of blessings echoing from the very souls of the people.

"Bak-her Pharaoh! King of this very Egypt. May he live forever. Bak-her Crowned Prince Atem."

Startled by the sudden noise, Atem blinked. Revealing bright crimson orbs. Then threw his head back and roared in scarlet-faced outrage at his people.

And, immediately, the great nation of Egypt took their Prince to their hearts.

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Okay. First thing's first, sorry it's a short chapter, but technically it's a prologue. Also as for the mention in the Author's Note, maybe it's not carrying on from Oasis as such (though you probably guessed that. lol). Originally it was going to, but I had no notes and my sucky organization skills struck again and led me this way. But I decided I wanted to write a multi-chaptered Millennium Saga fic and it will end up being an Atem/Mana pairing eventually.

Bless baby Atem. And bless baby Bakura's cameo with his mother Ikona.

Anyhoo, reviews?

Stay Smexy. xXx


	2. Passage of Time

**Author's Note:**

Hey there again. Not gonna be much of an author's note today, (cue applause) mainly cos I'm tired and I'm expecting Kama's and Ryo's first litter of kittens, (chinchilla kittens that is). They aren't due for at least six weeks but I'm working overtime to prepare for the birth, I actually feel a little like Siamun in the previous chapter. Anyway, for those who care I will update the progress of pregnant mum and doting dad, until then wish me luck in moving Kyber, Trinity, and Marik to a new cage in the next two weeks.

**Disclaimer:**

If I owned Yu-Gi-Oh! then... well let's face it, it would suck. As it doesn't, it's obviously not copyrighted to me...

**Lapis Luzali.**

**Chapter. 2: Passage of Time.**

The seasons passed swiftly in the great nation of Egypt, and the war ravaged land sagged a little heavier in defeat with each passing year. Almost as though it were so very tired of the constant battles it bore and was very slowly dying beneath every Egyptian's, Tehenun and Hyksos' feet. It's golden sands now tainted with innocent blood, alongside that of the guilty.

But for the children of Egypt, their motherland still beheld wonders and adventures for them that the older generations had long since forgotten. And for the now six year old Prince, it was no different.

Atem trotted faithfully behind Mahado, his little toy bow, slung across his shoulders in a hap-hazard way. Striving to be as like the older boy as he could. When Mahado spat, he spat. When he swore, Atem artfully copied the curse. For he adored the lordly ten year old, and Mahado was fond of the little Prince also, enjoying the youngster's companionship and his sole attention focused upon himself. He would show off his more skillful draw of his own small bow, or entertain the child with his penny-magic tricks and sleight of hand, causing Atem to clap his chubby little hands together and demand more.

As much as Mahado doted upon the boy, there was another who had wormed their way between the pair. Atem had his own little admirer. At almost a whole year younger than the Prince, Mana had toddled after him ever since she had first learned to walk. Every curse he learned from Mahado, Mana lisped the words as closely as she could manage herself.

However Atem, unlike Mahado who embraced his younger shadow, did not appreciate the affections of a smaller child and he began to pick challenging paths purposely to prevent her stumbling after him. He suffered many a skinned knee or grazed palms through climbing over rocky ground or scaling walls rather than simply leading her along the easier routes, hoping she would come to her senses and give up her trailing him and simply leave him alone.

But to no Advil.

No matter the difficulty of the path, Mana faithfully scrambled after him, suffering just as many scrapes and grazes as Atem, until he complained bitterly to Mahado. "Can you not make her leave me alone, Mahado? She is just a baby!"

The older boy would simply smile, turn back and hoist the small girl upon his shoulders and, to Atem's frustration and horror, carry the child with them in their journeys.

Scowling, Atem shifted his toy bow higher upon his shoulder and just stood there, refusing to follow. "But she is a baby, Mahado. She'll ruin everything!"

Mahado paused and turned back to the sulking young Prince, though he made no effort to return to his side. "You are barely a year older than she is, does that make you a baby also, my Prince?"

Atem flushed bright red and stared at the sand between his feet, tears threatening to spill as his lower lip trembled. "But I am older." he said miserably. "You promised we would hunt when we reach the river."

Mahado sighed and walked back to the small boy, laying a hand on his small shoulder. "And we will." He grimaced in discomfort as Mana began wriggling and bouncing painfully upon his shoulders before sliding to the ground with a thud.

Scampering over to Atem as the first tear rolled down his cheek, she squatted. His head bowed and his golden bangs shielded his face. Not to be deterred, Mana dropped to her knees and shuffled closer until she was practically sitting on his feet and peered up into his face from beneath the mass of hair.

"Do not cry, Temmy." she pleaded.

"I am not crying." he snapped, scrubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. "Boys do not cry."

Blinking, Mana pushed herself higher onto her knees and poked a finger against his cheek, squashing the single tear he had missed against the skin. Glowering at the little girl, Atem swatted her hand away from him. Hurt and shock glazed her large doe eyes and she snatched her hand back against her chest, clutching it with her other. Her face screwed up in the beginnings of her own whimpering. She fell back onto her rear with a thump, lifted her head and, to Atem's horror, wailed as though she had been mortally wounded.

As any small child who knew he had done wrong and feared a scolding or a spanking my result of it, Atem dropped to his knees beside Mana, casting a careful startled glance for any adult who may suddenly materialize.

"Do not cry Mana, please. I did not mean it."

His attempts to calm her only made her wail even louder. He stared helplessly at Mahado, his crimson eyes throwing a desperate plea for help. But Mahado just frowned and shook his head, this was a problem that the Prince must solve for himself.

Scooting closer to the sobbing five year old, Atem reached out a hand to grip her wrist, only for her to wail with renewed strength and vigor and yank her hand further away. Releasing his grip, Atem pondered a moment, then his lip twitched into the barest of smiles.

"Mana," he spoke soothingly to her and the response to his more gentle tone was immediate.

The loud sobbing ceased to gentle sniffling as she stared at the boy.

"May I see your hand?"

With a stifled whimper, Mana held her hand out to Atem, watching him cautiously as he gently turned the appendage over and carefully inspected the unblemished skin.

"Does it hurt here?"

A nod and a hiccough.

The young Prince smiled softly, "This will make it better. Mother used to do this to me when I had hurt myself." He touched his lips to the pretend injury. "There now. All better?"

The little girl wrinkled her nose and the crocodile tears vanished as she nodded.

Atem pushed himself to his feet and then helped Mana to hers. "Would you like to hold my hand the rest of the way to the river?"

Mana smiled brightly, as though nothing had happened at all, poked her thumb just past her lips and nodded shyly.

Mahado folded his arms across his chest and wore a an expression of mock surprise as the small boy lead the girl past him, neither pulling her to keep up with his usually quick pace nor scowling at her for slowing his travels. "My Prince, I thought you did not wish Mana to join us. I thought she was just a baby."

Atem simply glanced at the older boy, then down at Mana who discovered a little desert rodent and was in the process of trying to gather it up into her little chubby fist. But it was too quick for her, and she gazed in bewilderment as the tiny creature darted away. She turned her bright green eyes up to his crimson ones and grinned, pointing out into the desert after the little mouse. "Look Temmy, the mouse ran away."

Atem turned his gaze back to Mahado and shrugged. "She is barely a year younger than me. Am I a baby still?" he turned the earlier question Mahado had put to him back on the older boy.

Mahado smiled thoughtfully and shook his head. "Certainly not, my Prince."

Atem nodded knowingly and then, a mischievous grin settled upon his lips. "If she becomes too much of a bother, we can always feed her to the crocodiles."

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As soon as the little group reached the river bank, Mana slipped her hand from Atem's, excitement gleamed in her eyes at the sight of the rich green waters and she fairly squealed in delight.

As Mahado helped improve Atem's aim by hunting ducks, Mana scampered off on her own to indulge in a little hunting of her own. Her consisted of mud-skippers and water beetles stranded in little pools of river water. And she even managed to snag a small fish in her hands, though holding onto the slippery creature was quite another matter.

Turning, she darted toward the two boys standing a few hundred yards away and firing crudely fashioned arrows over the river at the ducks. "Temmy!" she cried breathlessly, "Mado! Look! I caughted a fish."

Atem lowered his bow and turned, with Mahado, to face the small girl.

As she neared the pair her foot slipped in the mud and, falling onto her front, she belly-slid to their feet still clutching the fish desperately in her hands. She stared up at the boys from her position in the mud and beamed.

Mahado lifted the girl to her feet and did as best he could at wiping the mud from her small frame.

"Mado. See? See my fish?" she demanded and held the gasping, mud-caked creature beneath his nose. "I hunted it and caughted it all by myself."

His pale blue eyes twinkled but he kept his expression stoic and continued to wipe the mud from hers face. "Where did you find it?"

Pushing herself onto tiptoe to point over Mahado's shoulder, and almost slipping over again, Mana managed to direct both his and Atem's gazes to the little pool behind them.

Turning back Atem stared at the fish. "It's awful small." he spanned both his palms over it. "Do you think it has been trapped in that puddle since the waters fall? It's a wonder the crocodiles didn't eat it." A wicked glint gleamed in his eye and he held his arms out before him like a crocodiles jaws and snapped them at Mana. "It's hardly a mouthful." He grinned and advanced on her, still snapping the pretend jaws. "You would make a good meal Mana."

Mana's eyes widened in horror and she turned her face up to stare up at Mahado. Mahado smiled gently and took the fish from her. "Why don't we put the little fellow back into the water where he belongs." Turning to Atem, he narrowed his eyes. "I see your conscience has retreated once more and you are as naughty as ever."

Atem dropped his shoulders sharply.

"Now if you two would like to help me, we shall return the fish to the river."

He led the two youngsters carefully over the mud slopes and helped them to clamber down to the waters edge. Now that they stood knee deep in the water Mahado handed the little fish back to Mana. She stared at the silvery creature, barely gasping in her grasp and then gazed up at the older boy, confusion in her eyes.

"You found him, so you release him." Mahado prompted gently. "Quickly now."

She cast a quick glance to Atem who opened and snapped his mouth behind Mahado's back, then she scanned the waters for movement. "But. The crocodiles..."

"He will be fine." Mahado said turning and catching the other boy in the process of opening his mouth to snap again. He jerked upright sharply and blushed.

With a sad nod, Mana carefully lowered the fish into the water. As the cool liquid covered it, it sprang into life once more. Wriggling free from her grasp and with a flick of its tail, the little fish vanished into the murky depths.

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Done. Another chapter down. A special thanks to my little niece who inspired all the little childish tantrums.

Anyways... reviews make me happy. (hint hint.)

Stay Smexy

xXx


	3. Perils of the Adolescent

**Authors Note:**

Hey again peoples. Right, a quick history lesson. As you may have noticed that I have made several references to Horus being Atem's patron God (in both this fic and in Of Kings and Thieves.) I thought I was being all smart and because of all Egyptian Gods, Horus-the child and Anubis are my favorites, but it turns out that in the first episode of the Dawn of the Duel series, when Solomon Mutou enters Atem's tomb, a statue of Horus is present, so lucky break for me. lol

Also if you have any idea of Horus' back story, he is the God I feel most describes Atem. Horus was born after Seth murdered and hacked Osiris to pieces. Isis and her sister, Nephthys, collected the pieces and reassembled the corpse, all except for the God's manhood, yet somehow Isis was able to conceive a child, the God Horus. (Egyptian history is rife with incest.) No I do not think Atem was born from the same circumstances but, Horus-the child became known as Her-nedj-tef-ef (Horus, Avenger of His Father) in his adult life. And, so concludes our Egyptian history lesson 101, lol.

Right my advice to those reading this fic, I suggest before reading this chapter, you read my oneshot Oasis as it explains a little more of the developing relationship between Atem and Mana. I would upload it as a chapter within this story but that's cheating and I respect my readers too much to recycle it a oneshot as a chappy. If I were to write it from either Atem's or Mana's point of view, then yes I would rewrite it, though it would tell the same story in effect. But as I am writing from a third persons perspective, well... (shrug...)

Anyways, that's my advice. (Also perhaps Oasis may receive a few extra reviews...)

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Egypt nor the history of either.

**Lapis Luzali.**

**Chapter. 3: Perils of the Adolescent.**

Every living beast and every plant in Egypt blooms swiftly into adulthood, and the children born to the land were no different. Boys are ready to wed and become fathers almost as soon as they first notice a young woman as more than just another defenseless beast to torment, and girls are ready to take a husband as soon as they are able to bear children of their own. Such was the way of their world.

Yet, a Prince of Egypt must complete one extra assignment before he is truly thought of as a man. Either by running the gauntlet known as The Red Road- a grueling trial of fighting and proving ones skills as a hunter and charioteer. Very few completed the trials as it was known as The Red Road for one reason alone... for the amount of young, headstrong Princes failing the trials and losing their very lives.

The second, and more favored method, was to capture ones very own God-bird, the majestic Saker Falcon.

Atem had recently completed this task. His young bird now joined the aging Saker belonging to his father in the royal aviary. Once a Pharaoh's reign ended, his God-bird was set free to join the departing spirit in its journey into the west.

Atem was a man now, and though he was of age to wed, he refused. Still claiming that women were beneath his notice and, much to the distress of the line of potential wives that were presented to him, turning his delicate nose up at each. Though there was one female he was still rather fond of...

"Are you as bored as I am, Temmy?"

He smiled. Mana always could make him smile. Even when he was slouching with an irritated scowl fixed firmly upon his face, listening to the reports of his eventual kingdom. Though his father still ruled, it was insisted that the Prince and his own Priests-in-training attended these long meetings. Mana took her proper place at the Prince's feet. No Priest was permitted to stand higher than the royal family and, as a woman, Mana was not even permitted to kneel at his side.

Not that she minded of course. Kneeling at Atem's feet provoked the playful streak in his nature. Even now, he sat and prodded at Mana with his toes. Trying to make her jump or squeak and disrupt the boring voice of his uncle, Lord Akhenaden with his gentle assaults. To his delight, she often encouraged the game, trying to grab his ankle when he nudged her.

"I do wish he would hurry and finish. I do not think I can stay awake much longer." Again her soft tones reached his ears as she complained under her breath. "His voice is almost as tiresome as Master Mahado's own drone."

Atem clamped his mouth shut but not before a snorting laugh burst out, bringing Akhenaden's report to an abrupt halt. All eyes swung to focus upon the Prince who immediately rubbed his nose. "My apologies Lord Ahkenaden. I believe the slaves did not clean my throne as thoroughly as they should have."

Mana lowered her head so her bitten back smile couldn't be seen. He was attempting to cover the outburst as a sneeze...

But it worked. Ahkenaden nodded and returned to his report, as though nothing had disrupted him.

"You almost had me caught." Atem's voice hissed at her in mock anger and his nudging resumed, a little harder this time. "Just you wait until we-"

Pharaoh leaned slightly toward his son and spoke from the corner of his mouth. "I know these meetings are tedious to you, my boy. But at least try to pretend you are listening to your uncle. If he feels you were not attentive enough, he shall repeat the report."

Atem nodded slightly and cupped his chin in his hand, propping his elbow upon the armrest of his throne and waited out the last of the report with the most interested expression he could muster upon his face.

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"Finally." Mana groaned as she stretched her legs, she bent to attempt to rub life back into them after the grueling two hour meeting. "I was beginning to think I would leave the hall as an old crone."

Atem grinned as he glanced up from the bao board and gestured for the girl to make her move.

She shifted once and stared thoughtfully at the board positioned between them. Atem watched her face as the tip of her little pink tongue slipped out and drew her bottom lip between her teeth, and shuddered. The action was innocent and she had no idea just how provocative a simple movement like that was to him.

Ever since Mahado had reached fifteen and left for his intense magic training, Atem had been left to rely upon Mana for companionship. And, if truth be known, he had loved every minute of it. Mana was fun, always smiling and always up to something. She was a bundle of boundless energy and it was almost impossible for anyone not to discover their own hidden pools of strength when in her company.

She was eager to learn. Siamun had taught bao to Atem and, in turn, he taught it to Mana. All the while he was starting to see her in a different light, no longer the awkward little girl he had bullied and teased when they were children, but for the woman she was becoming. She had learned how to handle him, his moods and tempers, and diffused tense situations between the young man and whomever had angered him with the ease and finesse of a loyal wife, allowing him to maintain his dignity as both a man and a king.

When she lifted her eyes from beneath those dark lashes, he swallowed thickly and those strange feelings that he had first experienced days earlier stirred in his belly with renewed strength. Engulfing his whole being in a warm wave. He watched her struggle to discover a path between his stones that surrounded her castle and suddenly decided winning this game was not important. Had his opponent been Siamun or anyone else, he would be grinning in satisfaction at delivering another crushing defeat, for he was an excellent bao player. Instead he rolled his shoulders and stood.

"Shall we go?"

Mana blinked slowly, confused, then stared down at the board. "But, the game..."

Atem waved her protest away, as though it were some annoying insect. "I tire of bao. If I continue to play, I will defeat Lord Siamun easily and lose all the love I have for the game." Then he smiled one of those smiles she was convinced he had only for her, the one that lit up his eyes and made his face boyish and appealing. "Now, would you join me in a hunt?"

She practically leaped to her feet and, in her haste, almost upset the bao board. She flushed, steadied the board and was beside him in seconds.

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He gazed softly at her from the corner of his eye, splitting his concentration between the girl beside him and the gazelle he was attempting to separate from the herd they were pursuing. He quirked his lips into a slight curl as he noted the way the simple white maiden-tunic whipped about her elegant thighs and clung so tightly to her curved hips and generous mounds upon her chest.

She hadn't bothered with the usual head cap that she usually wore, it would simply be lost in the speeds they traveled at, so her long hair streamed behind her as the wind toyed and knotted the strands.

Not paying attention to the fleeing animals path, he missed it throw a sharp left and gain a few extra cubits, only aware of the change in direction when Mana pointed. Growling an oath in frustration, Atem wrapped the left rein around his fist and pulled. He was an excellent chariot driver and he proved his skills now. To a lesser driver, a sharp turn like this would flip the body of the chariot and kill both those inside and the horses, but Atem adjusted for the swing. Planting his feet wide, he leaned away from the pull, his weight anchoring the light vessel.

As the horses veered, the chariot swung wide and hurled Mana hard against him. Without thinking, Atem shifted and pressed her against the front guard of the vehicle, holding her there and protecting her with his own body. Even when the chariot straightened once more, he didn't move away. Instead, he transferred the left rein into his right hand and, with his hip, he nudged Mana into a more central position before shifting his lower body to pin her once more. Pressed this closely against her, he could feel every curve and contour of her body slipping to fit with those of his own, and his cheeks heated as he passed the left rein back to his left hand.

He began thinking more and more of her, of how wonderful it feel to press close like this without barriers. How her cool skin might feel, crushed to his own hot flesh...

He shuddered. This train of thought was dangerous with her pressed so tightly against him, his feelings for her may be discovered. He willed away the sudden onset of hormones away and concentrated on the hunt.

Then Atem winced, suddenly aware of something jabbing painfully into his belly.

A bow.

Mana rolled her shoulder and the weapon slid down the length of her arm and into her hand. A light-weight bow that had be expertly and specially crafted for her and her alone. Easy to draw and frighteningly precise. She slid an arrow from the quiver at her hip, nocked it and drew.

She wore a guard upon her wrist and he knew, beneath the white material of her tunic, she wore a guard over her breast, both were fashioned from supple and well oiled crocodile hide. The wrist guard was more for support, where the cup over the mound of delicate flesh upon her chest was solely for protection against the biting back-lash of the bowstring.

Urging the horses to give their all, Atem smiled. He knew the girl had a deadly aim.

Even the voice of the string sang with an almost elegantly female lilt as it propelled the arrow through the air.

The gazelle squealed once and flipped over itself. Its forelegs splayed as they stopped running before the hind ones did. It rolled to a stop with the arrow embedded deep within its neck.

Leaning to the girls ear and pulling sharply on the reins, Atem murmured. "Bak-her, Mana. A beautiful shot."

Mana shivered as his breath tickled across her cheek, and flushed at how the praise so readily melted into seduction in her mind. But was it all in her mind? Hadn't he pressed so tightly to her that she had felt him so prominently through his tunic? Her blush only delighted the young Prince more and he nudged his body closer still.

The horses slowed to a halt and stood panting, steam rising from their sweating flanks and foam dribbled from their muzzles.

Mana tried to twist around and face Atem, but he had pinned her so expertly that she could barely wriggle. At her movements his breath came as short and barely audible moans. He turned his face into her cheek and she froze.

He was nuzzling her, his lips mouthed a gentle path over the flesh he could reach. His fingers clutched the rim of the chariot, trapping her. Preventing her from moving, from turning to face him.

She could feel him trembling against her. Despite the boldness of his actions, he was afraid.

Afraid of her reaction. Afraid and certain that if she were to face him, he would see horror in her wide eyes. Afraid of being rejected. And above all... Afraid to let her see his own fear.

"T-Temmy..."

The voice was so small and so confused that he paused sharply. He just stood there, pressed against her, cheek to cheek. Sliding one cautious hand to grip her fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze.

And to his surprise, she squeezed back.

Mana turned her lips to his cheek now, brushing a gentle path along his jaw. He slowly turned his head, allowing her to graze an agonizingly slow trail toward his mouth. He shuddered hard as the soft lips met the very edge of his mouth. Pulling back, he repositioned himself more firmly against her, ensuring she could feel every last inch of his body. Every angle. Every hard contour.

Lowering his head, his broiling crimson eyes shuttered...

"There they are! We have them!"

The sudden shout startled them apart, rocking the stationary chariot so fiercely that they almost lost their footing.

"My Prince, you should not have abandoned the hunting party."

Atem growled and pushed away from Mana suddenly, who clung to the side of the vessel, panting and attempting to collect her thoughts of what had just transpired between herself and her friend... No... Her future king.

In the excitement of the hunt and the ecstasy of the chase, the small party that Atem had headed, had scattered. The main body recollected moments after and attempted to catch up to the Prince, but he had thrown so many hard turns and spurred Kaheer and Bolast, two of the swiftest horses owned by Pharaoh, to their fullest and hardest gallop that there was no hope that they could catch him.

None of the men present could match Atem's skills. The only man who came even close was Seto, a man of the same age as Atem that Lord Akhenaden had taken as an apprentice, but he was elsewhere.

"You could have been injured," The lecture continued, and Atem grit his teeth. "Lady Mana could have been injured. You acted irresponsibly..."

"Enough!"

Atem's temper snapped. "Do not speak to me as though I am a mere boy. I am a man! I am to be Pharaoh! I captured my God-bird in my trial of manhood, which I stress to you that none here have completed a trial of such magnitude save for me! That is more than enough proof of my capabilities!"

Mana stared at the young man trembling with rage. He was so proud, so stubborn and,- she sought for a way to best describe him, then found one- so incredibly male.

One of the other men finally noticed Mana upon her knees behind the enraged Prince, and called to her. "Are you injured, my Lady?"

Immediately the Prince's furious scowl fell upon him. Mana pushed herself to her feet and smiled. "I am fine Sobekt. My Prince would not allow any harm to befall me. He is honorable and brave, and I would trust him with my very life."

She felt those crimson orbs fall upon her and she shyly met them. She smiled softly as the anger drained from his face and the tiniest hint of the boyish smile he had only for her touched his lips. He nodded, a gesture so small she almost missed it.

Sobekt turned to his comrade and gestured to the forgotten gazelle before he lifted his head and called to the rest of the party. "We have recovered the Prince and his kill. Let us return to the Palace and speak no more of what could have happened." he turned and skewered the man who had challenged and lectured Atem with a glare of pure disgust. "And you, fellow. You will do well to learn not to displease the Prince. He is protected by Horus. It would serve you well to remember that."

As the formation drove off at a leisurely pace, Atem turned to Mana. All his anger had melted away and his eyes had softened. "Mana..."

"Yes, my Prince?"

"Did you mean that? What you said?"

A cheeky grin toyed upon her lips. "Do you see any injuries? If I had, I would give you a lump for every one that I found."

Atem sighed as he turned away from her and gathered the reins, clicking his tongue to encourage the exhausted horses into an easy trot. "I did not mean that as you are well aware." He tried to sound nonchalant, but the excited flips his stomach was currently in the process of doing prevented it. "Do you trust me with your life?"

"No."

His stomach plummeted and his poise sagged a little. Then he felt her bump him with her hip playfully.

"I trust you with so much more."

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Okay the ending of the chapter was overly sweet, maybe I should have enclosed a warning for all those with diabetes. lol

Anyway, for those who decided to ignore the advice in my authors note, you may be a little confused as to the age skip from six to about sixteen for Atem and from five to fifteen for Mana or whatever their ages were determined to be in Oasis. I did warn you!

Anyways please read and review as I'd love any feedback and creative criticisms issued.

And wasn't I right about how Mana know's just how to deal with Atem?

Stay Smexy.

xXx


	4. Rise of a King

**Authors Note:**

Hey again guys, (and my loyal reviewer; dragonlady222). I have an apology to make about this chapter. I apologies in advance for the possible lack in quality for this chappy as I discarded my notes due to an artists tantrum. (not my fault if Raiku's body wont work for me.) I'm working on an independent comic and when I throw a strop, I _**really**_ throw a strop. And I also apologies for not updating this sooner but I had a minor emergency involving pregnant Karma (one of my hordes of chinchillas), she took a tumble off my chest of drawers. Fearing the worst for, I to rushed her to the vets. After a terrifying hour long wait, I find both mum and kits are fine and she was quickly reunited with panicking Ryo, who then spent the next ten minutes nuzzling and scolding both Karma and me (that's gratitude for you).

Also, I have decided to begin turning this into a slightly more tragic chapter, simply because I feel both Mana and Atem have had it too cushy so far... I'm evil. As always, if you read this fic please review as it's nice for an authoress to receive feed back and to see the counter on 200 hits and 5 reviews, it is a tad disheartening.

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or the characters, I just name my pets after them...

**Lapis Luzali.**

**Chapter. 4: Rise of a King.**

The waters of the Nile rose and receded once more, marking the end to another year. As the last of the water retreated from the lands and back into the swollen banks, the cry of celebration rose from the kingdom at the quantity of fertile silt deposited upon the plots that ran alongside the river.

Celebration was not contained soley for the common-folk, as Priestess Isis lead prayer and gave thanks to Hathor-the goddess of women, fertility and childbirth. At her side, Mana also prayed to the great goddess. At sixteen years of age, Mana had finally reached full womanhood with the arrival of her first cycle, a cause for much joy and jubilation for now she came into her full powers as a spell-caster.

Isis smiled as the young maiden rose to her feet and bowed her head for the Priestess to slip a delicate, golden amulet around her neck.

"We welcome you to womanhood, Sister Mana. May Hathor bless you."

The young apprentice beamed with pride. Lifting the glittering gold engraving, a cows head that held a sun disc between the horns, in her palm, she gazed at it in wonder. Now, at last, she was of age to wed. Dropping the pendent so it rested upon her breast, she removed from her wrist a bangle that she had worn since childhood and placed it in offering at the feet of the Hathor carving that she had knelt before.

Accompanying the young woman as she turned and walked from the temple, Isis noted the smile that had not left her face. "Is there a young beau who warrants such a smile?"

Turning her head to the Priestess, Mana simply smiled with more radiance.

"There is." Isis confirmed. "And does he return your feelings?"

Still no words, but the young apprentice simply tilted her head to the sky, her lids sliding shut over her sparkling eyes.

"I see... I do not suppose you would satisfy my curiosity by supplying me with a name?"

Mana opened one eye and gazed at the older woman for a moment, then she shook her head. "No. Your curiosity shall have to wait until he decides he is ready to announce his decision." Her voice rose with a gentle lilt and a touch of playful mischief.

Priestess Isis shook her head and chuckled softly. "Are you sure he is strong enough of a man to hold such a spirit as yours within his hand? He should have more luck at snatching a bird from the very skies."

Mana simply laughed. Partly at the Priestess' gentle probings to discover this suitor, and partly through nerves as she came so startlingly close to uncovering the name with her off-hand remark, for the suitor had already plucked a bird from the heavens. He had captured his God-bird.

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"So," Atem said as he plucked the golden amulet from its position, dangling between Mana's breasts. His fingers just brushing them through the sheer material and his ears immediately heated. "This means that you are now of age?"

Mana nodded and took the pendant from his grasp, setting it carefully back to it's original position.

The young man chuffed and shook his head. "You mean to tell me that, for all this time, we have been awaiting a golden cow's head to be placed around your neck?"

She stared at him, horrified at his dismissal of her coming of age and the item that proved it. "Unlike yours, my passage is not within my control. I cannot order my moon to rise, nor can I demand it's fall. It is the will of Hathor when I was to reach womanhood." She poked a finger into his face, scolding him softly and trying desperately not to laugh when he crossed his eyes, watching the tapered digit that gently attacked his nose. "You can simply stroll out into the desert and capture a God-bird whenever the time takes your fancy."

Catching her wrist in his hand and, holding it to low to her waist, Atem leaned in, a wicked and coy grin quirked his lips. "You could not do it."

"And you could not create life within yourself." She pointed out.

He opened his mouth to retort, but closed it firmly. She was right. He could not create a life within himself. No man could, but no woman...

His grin broadened, he settled her hand upon his hip and lent in closer until his belly was crushed to hers, his hips touched her hips. "You could not create life without me." he purred.

"Was that a proposal, Temmy?"

He chuckled, then bowed his head and caught her mouth in his. His tongue slipping between her lips in a path he had learned by heart over the last year. Pulling back, he stole a sly peck before recoiling fully. "Allow me to talk to my father tonight. If he is strong enough. Let me put to him that I have chosen a woman to become my wife, and gain his blessings."

Mana couldn't help but look a little disappointed. "Do you think he would disapprove?"

Atem stroked the back of his fingers over her cheek in a simple and reassuring gesture. "I do not think it is what he had wanted for me. But that is not important. The heart wants what the heart wants, and no amount of reasoning can change that. Father is weakening, and we must act quickly to obtain his approval. Pharaoh's word is law. If I chose a horse to be my bride, with the previous Pharaoh's approval, it would be so."

"I understand Pharaoh is in ill-health, but I do not think he has descended into madness just yet."

Atem chuckled and squeezed her hand softly. "I would not swear to that." He pulled the apprentice sorceress into him once more and leaned to steal another kiss from the soft lips that he had acquired a taste for. Only to be startled by a short and harsh blow upon the rams horn. Jerking his head up and cocking it, the Prince listened hard, his face falling.

"What is it?" Mana asked, almost dreading the answer she would receive.

"It is a summons." Atem told her sharply. His tone flat and his face ashen. "It is Pharaoh."

Mana balked. She had never heard the Prince ever address Pharaoh as anything other than father. She swallowed thickly and forced her heart from her throat, where it seemed to have sprung to. "Temmy... Do you think..?"

But Atem didn't reply. He just gripped her wrist and pulled her behind him as he plunged into a sprint.

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Siamun attended to the old King in his sickbed as he had done since the unknown illness had struck the God-King down. His aged face drawn tight with worry and his eyes darkened with grief. He held a shallow bowl to his lips and coaxed Pharaoh to drink.

After taking the barest of sips, he waved the bowl away. "Whe... where is my... my son, Siamun?" he croaked. "Where... is he?"

Siamun turned his back to the King, hiding the tears of sorrow that threatened to spill. "The horn has been blown Majesty. He will come."

"I must... I must tell him..."

"You must rest, my Pharaoh."

Pharaoh's gnarled hand groped at the Millennium Pendent around his neck. The gold felt too heavy upon his chest, and too cool against his skin. Siamun noticed his discomfort and moved to remove the object from around the Kings neck, but the hands gripped the item so very fiercely that he feared the Pharaoh may drive the point into his ribs to end his suffering.

Then Atem skidded past the chambers doorway, his fingers just graping the corner as he over shot the mark. Pulling himself into the room he froze, his body held rigid as he made the sign to ward off evil. The Prince had never seen a dying man before but there was no doubt in his mind that he was looking at one now, laying in his fathers bed. He took one small step closer. "F... Father?"

Pharaoh's eyes slid to the face of his son, blinked hard once and a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as recognition flared in his old face. "A... Atem. You have come to me?"

"Of course I would." Atem cried softly. "What kind of a Hyksos hooligan do you think you seeded?" He swiftly reached his father's bedside and knelt beside him, taking the damp rag from Siamun's hands and set about wiping sweat from Pharaoh's face. His nose wrinkled at the sickly sweet scent of illness.

"I... I must..."

Atem waved the weak voice away and continued to wipe his father's face, but the old man pressed on. "I must give y... you..." he wetted his lips and slowly lifted the Millennium Pendent over his head and held it out to the young man. "You... you need this..."

Atem stared at the golden object in horror. He knew that his father would pass the Pendent over to him when his own time as King of Egypt had ended. The young man pushed the item back toward his father. "No." he said. "I will not accept it. You can not die if I do not take it."

"D... do not be... be foolish boy." Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen said as sharply as he could manage and forced the trinket into his sons hands, closing the boys fingers around the cool metal. "Take it... I... it will prote... protect you from harm."

His eyes closed slowly and remained closed for such a long time that Atem flung the rag to one side and almost clambered onto the bed beside the old man. Then they flickered open once more.

"I thought you had left me."

A small twitch of the lips and Pharaoh spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. As Atem leaned forward to hear the words he blanched...

"The... the crystal path has twen... twenty-one turnings... The... the narrow way..."

They were snatches from The Book of the Dead.

Atem hung his head as the words faded and the voice grew weaker. He felt so helpless. Unable to do anything but wait for the words to end. After a few minutes, Siamun lay his fingers upon Pharaoh's neck, trying to find life there.

Atem stared at the old Priest, his crimson eyes, stormy with dread and hope.

Then the world seemed to stop as Siamun shook his head. "Pharaoh is dead."

For a few moments Atem just sat there, on his knees. Unseeing. Unthinking. Unfeeling. And then, the whole of his world came crashing down about his ears and he howled.

Scrambling upon the blankets and sheets, Atem pressed his face into his fathers collar, clutching the robes and curling into his lap. He was still warm under his touch. Grief crushed him to his very core and the new Pharaoh sobbed. "Get up. Father... please." he pleaded so piteously with the corpse that it tore at Siamun's soul. "You can not be dead... Get up!" He managed to push up onto his knees and, cradling his fathers head in his arms, he howled at the heavens in despair. "Do not leave me... Father! Father!"

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It took the Priests forty days to prepare Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen's body for burial. And it took Pharaoh Atem forty-one days before he felt ready to don the Millennium Pendent and complete the final ritual for the departed spirit.

He sat astride Swift's back with one arm cocked into a perch for his father's Saker Falcon. Mana had offered her company whilst he completed this final Honor but he had declined. Carefully he removed the leather hood from the birds eyes. The falcon stretched its long, sickle wings and preened it's flight feathers briefly before turning it's sharp yellow eyes onto Atem.

It opened its hooked beak and whittled at him, cocking its head in confusion.

Atem gave a tight lipped smile and gently stroked the glossy crimson feathers on the God-birds head. "It is time." he murmured. He ushered the bird onto his fist, and closed his eyes. "Fly, Mighty God-bird of Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen! Fly and live forever!"

He propelled his fist into the air, launching the Saker Falcon. Spreading its powerful wings, it soared higher until it was barely a smudge against the sky. Atem shielded his eyes and watched as the creature circled him once then, with a powerful cry and a few strong wing beats, it streaked to wards the west, accompanying the spirit of its King and Master.

"Farewell, Father."

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Done. I hope you enjoyed that chapter. Don't worry, I still have a few chappys left in this one.

As I mentioned earlier, I destroyed the notes to this chappy so this was simply a sit down and type thing. Depending on reactions I may pull this down and re-type, if you want it re-typed then review it with legitimate reasons as to why you didn't like it. Not just ' I did not like it. It's poo.'

Anyways reviews please.

Stay Smexy.

xXx


	5. First Strike

**Authors Note:**

I'm glad that those of you who are enjoying, and taking the time to review this fic, were satisfied with the last chappy. Just a quick note, I am changing the genre of this fic to romance/tragedy rather than romance/adventure.

A quick explanation is in order. I wrote in the previous fic that Atem had to receive blessing's from his father for him to wed Mana, saying Pharaoh's word is law. That is true, but just cos now Atem is Pharaoh, he cannot simply demand Mana's hand in marriage, it still has to be approved as she is not of nobility. Do not fear though dragonlady222, there is another way. Mana must first complete her training and become a fully fledged spell-caster.

I am slowly integrating certain chapters of my other fan-fictions into this one, so, I have inserted a piece from chapter 5 of 'Of Kings and Thieves' into the beginning of this chappy. To make complete sense of this chapter please read Of Kings and Thieves.

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! Plain and simple.

**Lapis Luzali.**

**Chapter. 5: First Strike.**

_'Mahado fell to his knees and grabbed Mana into his arms. Tears rolled from the corners of her tightly shut eyes. He heard the music of her spell still flowing, unbidden from her lips, and he smiled. _

_"Mana." he said gently and shook her. "Mana. That's enough now. It's over."_

_Her lips stumbled and the spell broke as a sobbing gasp burst from her lips and her lids flew open. She stared up at Mahado, "Master. I'm sorry. I just wanted to help Temmy."_

_Mahado frowned. "I should have you removed from my training for your deliberate disobedience. You put the Pharaoh in even greater peril..." he scolded and Mana hung her head, "Your actions were rash. Dangerous. And... I'm glad you did it."_

_Mana had braced, ready for the harsh words she expected. When her Masters words finally sank in she realized he was praising her. Staring at him in befuddlement, he gestured for her to look. _

_"Dump that corpse outside the city walls for the scavengers to pick at." Lord Seto dismissed the guards gruffly and turned, spotting Mana. He nodded his head at her and strode over to Siamun who had lifted Atem from the throne and onto the floor, his ear pressed to his chest._

_Mana stared at the body of the thief as it was dragged from the throne-room and suppressed a shudder. Then her thought's rushed to Atem. "Temmy." she breathed and darted toward the gathering around the injured Pharaoh._

_"Lord Siamun," she cried and fell to her knees beside him. "Will Temmy be alright?"_

_The old man looked at her and smiled with his eyes, nodding once. "Yes." he said gently before catching Lord Seto's eye and turning back to the wounded boy-Pharaoh on the ground. "Mana, fetch water from the kitchens and a clean tunic so I may attend to his injuries."_

_The girl nodded and after brushing a sweat-sodden bang from Atem's face, she stood an darted through the door. Siamun breathed heavily and awaited for the dreaded question from Seto._

_"You lied to her."_

_Siamun turned to face Mahado instead, for he was the one to ask the question. The old eyes gleamed and he spoke in hushed tones. "You would have me tell her the truth, Mahado? He may die still."_

_"How likely is that?" Seto asked and Siamun whipped his head around. He felt he was fending off attacks from all sides._

_"If he survives tonight then our only concern is the third day. If mortification sets, then he is lost-" _

_"You do not need to whisper. I can hear you."_

_The three priests froze, staring at each other before lowering their eyes to Atem. His eyes, fever bright and half lidded, gazed from his darkened face._

_He breathed slowly, dragging shallow and ragged breaths through his teeth. "I know I am sorely wounded. You need not protect me." he paused and wet his lips with his tongue. "Now, can you take this sword from me before I lose my pleasure for a hunt. I feel as though I would make poor sport if I get myself stuck so easily."_

_It was a poor joke, yet even Seto smiled weakly. "It will hurt, Majesty."_

_"Opposed to the overwhelming comfort I am currently in?"_

_Another poor attempt to joke. Siamun wordlessly gestured instructions and positioned Seto at Atem's side and Mahado at his head, ready to hold the boy down should he find the pain too much. The old man lifted his hands to the hilt and grasped it in both hands. "Lord Seto. The Millennium Rod."_

_The Rod? Atem's pain fogged mind failed to comprehend until he felt something forced between his teeth, pinning his tongue to prevent him biting it through when the pain became too intense._

_"Hold him."_

_Siamun twisted the blade slowly, back to the original angle of entry, doing his best to ignore the muffled, agonized cries from his patient. Slowly the sword began to yield and Pharaoh's whole body stiffened in distress._

_Pausing, Siamun wiped his bloody hands on his robe, then gripped the hilt again...'_

She had not been present when the attack had occurred. She had been with Master Mahado in her lessons. Working on one of her elemental spells from her spell scrolls. A wind spell. Sitting upon the floor, her legs crossed and her eyes narrowed as she moved her lips forming soundless versions of the texts. Suddenly, the young apprentice flung her arms up and arched her back with a cry of boredom, startling her master.

Turning his pale blue eyes upon his student, Mahado frowned. "Was that outburst truly necessary?" he demanded as he turned his focus back onto the papyrus scrolls that he had dropped and bent to gather them up again.

"My apologies, Master." the young woman murmured as her cheeks heated slightly. "But I do not see what I am learning by re-reading the spells I can already cast. Should I not study new spells instead."

"True, you can cast most elemental spells consistently," he lifted his gaze to her proud grin. "Most, is not good enough, my student. The wind element spell is the one which causes you the most difficulty in casting, and the one in which you may find yourself in most need of, as from that one weak spell, many stronger spells grow. Such as the Khamsin spell and the suffixation spell. Both are effective in their defensive abilities, though the suffixation spell can be deadly."

The apprentice opened her mouth to retort, but no words came before Lord Siamun Muran stumbled through the doorway. Mahado immediately turned and bowed to the old man.

"What is it, my Lord Siamun? What is it that has distressed you so?"

Siamun panted and heaved, sagging against the wall in exhaustion. "Pharaoh... Guards are d...dead. T-the man... he...here."

Mahado's face visibly tightened and paled. "Pharaoh is dead?"

"No," Siamun shook his head fiercely and finally managed to string a coherent sentence together though he could barely breathe. "The man who has terrorized the city with murders is here. He has murdered two more and he means for the Pharaoh to be his third."

"Who is with Pharaoh?" The Mage demanded and jogged to the doorway, his hand grabbed his staff.

"Priest Seto... Priest Seto is there, his sword drawn. But the villain, he is upon our King already. He has spilled first blood."

"Then we must..."

"Master."

Mahado spun to face his student, he had almost forgotten about her standing there. Her eyes were terrified but behind the fear was determination. "Mana..."

"Master Mahado, please. Allow me to accompany you. I may be of some assistance."

The Magus stared at her briefly, then closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. It is too dangerous. You will put Pharaoh in greater peril..." He opened his eyes again and could read the pain in her face now. He regretted his harsh words instantly. "Your magics are not yet reliable enough, my apprentice. But, very well, you may accompany us... If you swear to obey my commands and not take matters into your own hands. I am aware of your fondness of our King, but remember..." his ice blue eyes flashed with such raw emotion they seemed almost neon. "He is my friend too."

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Mana yawned and shook her head free from the suggestive tug of sleep. Four days had passed since the attack, she had remained at Atem's bed-side since he had been placed in the surgeon's chamber. She had fed him the mush that the kitchen's had sent up, the same mush that he had eaten during his weaning, high in nutrition yet vile tasting. She had bathed him, scrubbing the sweat and grime from his body, combing his thick hair until it gleamed. Every need he had, she attended to it.

She yawned again and a small chuckle drifted from a darkened corner.

"Tired? Maybe you would like to trade places."

Mana slid her eyes to the source of the sound, Atem was struggling to lift himself upright. His whole chest and right shoulder were heavily bound, and his wrist had been splinted. His crimson eyes were dark, dimmed and drugged by the broth of The Red Shepenn flower that Siamun administered to him before his evening meal to nullify his pain. She smiled and turned her back to him as she reached for the water jug standing on a stool behind her. She poured a small amount into a cup, and turned around in time to catch Atem sliding from beneath the thin blankets.

His eyes widened in guilty surprise.

"You are not yet well enough to be on your feet." she scolded gently and shooed him back under the blankets. "I can not take my eyes off you for a moment." She held out the cup to the injured Pharaoh, who accepted it and sipped the water.

"You are as bad as my old wet-nurse, Mana." he complained bitterly as the young sorceress drew the blankets back over his lap. "I am tired of staying in bed. I am bored..."

Mana chuckled and gestured to the Bao board set at his side. "You have Bao. I could ask Lord Siamun to join you in a game." She laughed suddenly as Atem rolled his eyes.

"I can defeat Siamun easily."

Tapping her lip thoughtfully, Mana dropped onto couch beside him. "Master Mahado has been wanting to see how your condition is faring with me as your carer. He would play you..."

"He would allow me to win too easily."

"He could entertain you with his penny-magic tricks like he used to." she suggested, curling herself alongside him.

"He has not done that since I was a child, I can see his reaction to such a request now." Atem cleared his throat and, in perfect imitation, he spoke for the Magus. "I am a Priest, Pharaoh. I am not a mere jester. I am the holder of the Millennium Ring and I bare its heavy responsibilities."

Mana snorted with laughter and sat up, her eyes glinting with mischief. "There is always Lord Seto."

Atem simply swung a mock glare at the girl as she slid from his couch. "Lord Seto? He is a stubborn as a mule and a competitive as-"

"As you." She smirked, "Lord Seto is so like you. Everything you can do, he attempts to do better." She glanced coyly over her shoulder at her Pharaoh, bouncing a few steps away to the doorway, leaned out and peered up and down the corridor for any sign of the Priests or guards. Satisfied that they would not be disturbed she pranced back to the bedside. She was not paying attention to Atem until he grasped her wrist and yanked her onto his lap.

Mana squeaked in protest as she thudded against his chest, forcing a yelp of pain to erupt from his throat. Her eyes widened in fear of the injury he had sustained from the Thief King's attack, and she immediately forced him to lay back down, carefully she un-wound the bandages and inspected the wound through his collar. It had scabbed over and the skin felt cool beneath her fingertips. Relief touched her eyes.

On the third day of his wounding, Atem had taken a turn for the worse. Taking to sleeping in the makeshift bed of cushions and furs at the foot of his sickbed, she had awoken late in the third watch of night to find him fitting. His skin burned to the touch and a vile stench had filled the air. Fearing the absolute worst, Mana had torn the bandages from around his chest to find the crusted black plug that corked the wound had burst, oozing thick greenish pus and dark blood. Not sure what to attend to first, the fitting or the possible mortification, Mana had cried in frustration.

Finally, she decided the fitting was of more danger, mortification was a slow killer, where his fitting could kill him swiftly and simply. Launching herself onto Atem and crushing her chest to his, she pinned him down. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she rode out his seizures. Preventing him from toppling from the couch and causing more damage to himself. Her tunic mopped up the oozing mess seeping down his chest. When his spasms ceased and he slipped back into his unconscious abyss, Mana finally peeled herself from him and set about cleaning the disease from his body.

As the wound drained and the healthy bright blood welled in its place, she breathed a sigh of relief...

She sighed even now as she rebound his wound. Stitching the linen together, she glared softly at Pharaoh. "You must be more cautious, you were hard hit." She scolded as Atem lifted his arm and peered beneath it, inspecting the neat job Mana had done.

"You have made me a mummy before my time."

Mana rolled her eyes and settled upon the couch beside him once more. "If you continue to strain yourself you will find yourself gracing the underworld sooner than you think." She scolded and tapped her fingertip to his forehead. "You need rest."

Atem snorted in frustration and folded his arms over his chest. "I have rested enough." he protested stubbornly. "I want to get up. I want to see my horses. I want to hunt."

Mana simply shook her head and smiled.

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Okay another unplanned chapter, (I really should stop and draft these) I hope you enjoyed it. It is simply a little bit of filler between time jumps. Also I think I'd left poor Mahado out of the picture for too long.

Again, as I said in the authors note the text in italics if from a previous fic that I am integrating into this one so please read Of Kings and Thieves chapter 5 to fully understand the situation and to fully understand the significance of mentioning the wind element spell.

As always read and review

And of course, Stay Smexy.

xXx


	6. The Games of Men and Women

**Author's Note:**

Sorry it has taken so long to update this fic, but my computer has been insolent as of late, and I have been dabbling with a lemony chapter that aides the story and is not inserted for simple pointless smut. So, hazzah, as I believe I have succeeded in my aims. The rating of this story has been elevated to M for sexual content. So sit back and enjoy the lemon spongy goodness. Don't hurt me...

**Disclaimer:**

Yu-Gi-Oh doesn't belong to me... I just destroy it in a better manner than kids WB...

**Lapis Luzali.**

**Chapter. 6: The Games of Men and Women.**

Since his sword-wound had stiffened his shoulder and even now, caused him such great discomfort that rather than sending the young woman to fetch Siamun to mix the Red Shepenn drug daily, he had the old man teach the apprentice sorceress to mix the draught herself. He had insisted that Mana retain her residence within his sick-quarters also, continuing her role as his nurse-maid. Though the demand had caused a few raised eyebrows amongst the Priests, none had denied him of his request, after all, she had done a fine job with his health thus far and he was Pharaoh.

Only Isis noted the shy glance Mana cast from beneath her thick lashes as the demands were made. She smiled gently to herself. _'I believe I have found your suitors name, Mana.' _

Slowly Atem's strength returned. And though he was able to leave his sick-bed for short periods of time, he still relied heavily upon the support and help of Mana. He still required assistance when rising from his throne, and dressing himself was also still beyond his capabilities.

When he was to make a public appearance all of her aide was disguised. If they were walking, it was arranged to appear as though he were guiding her with one hand upon her shoulder. If he was to rise from his throne she would position herself so he could slyly us her to lean upon. To show weakness as Pharaoh, despite the severity of his injuries, could result in his death. Far too many scoundrels and villains still walked the golden sands of Egypt. Those who would sooner slit Pharaoh's throat and hurry him into the waiting arms of Anubis rather than see him restored to his former strength and glory, lurked in the shadows of his great kingdom.

When alone though, he was able to depend fully upon her assistance, partly due to his injuries, but mostly because he enjoyed her constant attentions and her dedication to him.

That evening, as Mana helped Atem to remove his tunic so she could check the wound once more, his kilt already disposed of and a blanket draped over his lap as he reclined against the cushions of his couch. A lazy grin quirked his lips as he felt the cushion beneath him dip. Mana scrambled up, grumbling softly as she did so. Atem had purposely leaned back out of reach, knowing that the young woman would have to climb upon him to reach. And so, with that one simple action, insinuating the game of men and women...

... A game he was fast becoming fond of.

Paying no heed to her warnings against his rough play, Atem grabbed at her slim waist, kicked the blanket away and pulled her to sit across his thighs. He moved to capture her lips in his only to find himself restrained.

Mana smiled down at the captured Pharaoh, her knees held his hips still and her hands pinned his shoulders, still mindful of the scarring left collar despite it almost being fully healed. She was not surprised to find him fully aroused, nor to find him bumping and nudging at the inside of her thigh. Yet another game of men and women insinuated. She had teased him like this before and his response was always the same.

The quickening and shortness of breath, his crimson orbs half-lidded and stormy with passion and desire. And, of course, the hardened organ that pressed and probed at her so urgently. Occasionally she would grant him entrance, only an inch or two; a fraction of his length. Just enough to tease him and keep her maidenhood intact. A dark flush rose to her cheeks as she recalled the first time she had seen Atem in all his glory,

It had been during his confinement to the surgeons chambers after the attack, whilst she had been bathing him. He had not been fully alert, the drug of the Red Flower worked slowly through his system, but he was of sound enough mind to respond to her words and movements.

She had scrubbed the sickness from his face and worked a path down his long and lithe torso, pausing at his belly suddenly ill at ease. She shook her head and took a deep breath to compose herself before peeling away the sweat sodden blankets, revealing all that was him. Blushing, she turned away. Unable to comprehend her own sudden shyness. She had seen him before, when they had been younger. She had seen him in this state of undress only two years earlier when they had both fallen into the Nile during their secret hunt, though he had never responded to her the way he did now. And that, she supposed, was the cause for her shyness.

The flesh that sat there, seemingly useless between his thighs, took on an importance unbeknown to either of the young pair. And quite suddenly, Mana had the urge to touch it. With a shaking hand, she brushed her fingertips along the hot skin, causing a soft moan to drift from Atem's lips.

She glanced up to his face with confused interest. His eyes were closed and his head lolled back against the pillows, as she peered closer she noted that there was a definite flush upon his bronzed cheeks. Turning her focus back to the part of his anatomy at hand, she took a firmer grip and marveled at the sensation. It felt warm and hard, yet silky and smooth. She was startled by the girth, unable to meet thumb to forefinger as she encircled it.

He moaned again, shifting himself beneath her touch.

Smiling softly, she gently pulled the protruding organ to one side, touching it to his thigh before releasing her hold. Her eyes widened with fascination as it immediately sprang back to its original position, not bolt upright but slanting toward his belly. Her task of bathing Atem quite forgotten.

Mana recaptured this interesting part of her Kings anatomy and caused yet another moan to escape his lips. His one good hand clawed at the couch beneath him, her grasp on him firmer than before. She slid her hand to the base of his length, absently measuring it. Raising her other hand to encase him above the first, she noted that the slightly reddened tip still protruded.

Then she felt it.

Movement.

Startled, she discovered him lifting his hips in a slow rhythm, driving the slick appendage into her hands, his head pressed deep into the cushions and his mouth partly open. His moans were audible now and they came as he drove upwards...

Suddenly she realized what was happening and, appalled at her own gall, she released her grasp and sank away onto her knees. A slight hiss drifted from Atem's lips, frustrated that the touch had abandoned him so swiftly, and his movements slowed to a stop.

Mana still sat on her knees, trembling slightly, partly from shock but mostly from the strange warm sensation that she thought was coming from her belly, before realizing it to be a tug from her womb. A desire. She watched as his hooked fingers loosened their vice-like grasp on the couch beneath him and his entire body relax before she gathered up the forgotten cloth once more and wetted it with the now cold water...

Since then, they frequently played this game. Mana bit back a yelp. Occasionally Atem's movements became overly enthusiastic, pressing himself into her a little too hard and striking at the delicate barrier of her maidenhood. But this time the pain was sharper and it lingered a little longer than what she was accustomed to. Carefully the young woman lifted herself from him, though he attempted to follow, pushing up after her and humming to make his frustration known.

Mana chuckled, the sound husky and thick with arousal, pleased to know that the emotions she felt for him were returned. He cracked an eye and peered down the length of his body.

"...Mana?"

His eyes traveled along her curved calves and long thighs, higher and closer to her hips. He meant to continue higher, drinking in her form, but he couldn't tear his eyes from a smear on her upper inner thigh. "What is that?"

Mana frowned, reaching a hand down to touch the spot then raising her fingers to her face. Crimson, like Atem's eyes she noted absently, stained her fingertips. She narrowed her gaze at it for a few moments, then her lids widened. "Blood."

Her blood. She frantically tore through her mind, her moon. Had it come again already? No. This was something else.

Atem closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Y-your maidens blood."

Her breathing hitched and she nodded. Then the tears began to fall. Her head dropped to her chest, the long dark strands of hair shrouding her face. In the next instant, she felt his arms slide around her, crushing her into a tight embrace.

"Do not cry Mana. Please." he soothed and pressed his cheek into her hair. "It was my fault."

An apology? She sniffled. Well, as close to an apology as a Pharaoh could offer without being perceived as a weakness. And that only made her cry harder. Atem cupped her chin and tilted her face to his, thumbing a tear from her cheek before lowering his mouth to hers. He didn't know what else to do. They weren't children anymore and this was a more severe a problem than wounded pride and crocodile tears.

He had devalued her. His best friend. Labeled her as a whore, no better than those in the Harlem's along the Nile.

He felt her stiffen as he leaned close and, when his lips met hers, she actually attempted to pull away. Atem jerked his head back, as though he had been physically slapped, confusion clouded his eyes as he tried to peer through the mass of her hair that once again shielded her face. "Mana, please. Can you not even look at me?"

She just sat there. Not moving. Not speaking.

He waited a few minutes in silence. Then, just as he opened his mouth to speak again, her head lifted slowly. Atem flinched. Her eyes glistened with the wetness of unshed tears and all the smiles and joy that made Mana 'Mana' had drained from her whole presence, leaving her a pitiful shade of her former self.

He grit and ground his teeth as the first coil of anger settled in his belly. Angry and disgusted at himself, at his weakness. She looked so small, so miserable, and it was because of him. Because he could not, or was it that he would not, control himself and his hormones.

"Mana..." He tilted her face to his once again and held her sorrowful gaze with his own determined one. "I swear to Horus and to Isis. I swear to the Divine Father Osiris. I even swear to the Dark Lord, Seth," he paused and spat, such was the way of Horus men when the spoke of the fallen God. "I swear to all and any of the Gods who would listen to the words of a disgraced King," he lowered his voice and spoke directly to her. "I swear to you. I _will_ rectify what I have done to you. This, I pledge to you."

The silence that came next was deafening, swallowing up his promises and rendering them as nothing but meaningless noise. Then Mana met his gaze fully.

"Nothing can be done." she murmured. "Once she is broken, a maiden can never be mended."

Atem growled and raked a hand through his hair. "That was not what I meant." he heaved a pent up breath. "I want to wed. Take you as my wife."

He saw a tiny glimmer of the 'happy Mana' flit across her emerald eyes but, within an instant, it had gone. She shook her head slowly. "What of the fleece? You can not present to your nation a clean fleece. You would be disgraced before your people. The Pharaoh taking the passage of a woman that another has already taken-"

"That is not true!" he cried and snatched Mana by her biceps, giving her the barest of shakes. "You have not known another's touch. Only mine. Only I have traveled your passage! Only I know you!" Tears of frustration welled in his eyes and he frantically blinked them away.

"They do not know-"

"They do not know and I do not care!" he buried his face into her collar as the tear's spilled down his cheeks. How could she be so cold? So disconnected? Had he destroyed her so completely? "Why do you not care? Why will you not let me undo my actions?" He sobbed like the little boy he had once been. He had not cried like this since his father's passing. No tears fell when he released his fathers Saker falcon. None, even when Bakura tried to split his chest open. But now... Now Mana's rejection cut deeper than the sword.

"Why will you not let me take you as my wife? There must be something-"

He was cut off by a tiny voice, choking on her own tears. "Please my Pharaoh. Please, can we not leave it be? What's done is done." She slid her hands up to his chest and gently pushed him away. Rolling from the couch, she smoothed down the skirts of her shift and turned away from him. Her heart felt as though it were trying to escape from her breast as his sobs still reached her ears with every step she took, her feet carrying her away from him.

Atem lifted himself onto his hands and knees and crawled to the foot of his couch, the tears blurring his vision of her retreating form.

"Please... Mana, wait!"

But she had already gone.

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Okay done. Though I'm not entirely sure just how well this chapter will go down...

And aren't I clever? I know all you horny fan girls tested the sizing methods for Atem's manhood, but I deliberately picked varying sized methods. Bwa ha ha ha. I'm sick of fics that pretty much say he pushes his genitalia around in a wheel-barrow because of the size. He is actually pretty scrawny, make it too big and he'll fall over lol. Anyways, another twist in the plot. (Well, the first actually. lol)

Read and Review. (Especially those whose sized Atem up. ;) )

Stay Smexy.

xXx


	7. The Touch of a Vagabond

**Author's Note:**

Sorry it has taken so long to update this fic, but I do work between 40-70 hrs a week. And then there's my chinchilla's (Ryo and Loki have been fighting and Karma is preggers) taking up my time...

I'm also getting a new addition to my little family, a gorgeous little Tonkinese kitten. A Tonkinese is similar to a Siamese only less uppity and more friendly. She shall be named Mana (See a trend here? I've had a rat called Bakura who unfortunately developed a tumor and damned near broke my heart when he died white ebony chinchilla named Ryo father to Karma's kits, a standard blue or grey chinchilla called Kyber pronounced Kiaba lol and now my little Mana.) As soon as I can I will upload pictures of my babies onto my compy to show off to people.

And finally there is my own manga I'm working on and trying to publish called 'Cry of the Wolf'. I've quite a ways to go as I have only developed the main character so far, though he is nameless. This is one of the reasons I write on-line and hope for feed-back because maybe one day you will see my graphic novel on the shelves and each of you be mentioned in the dedications because without you guys my confidence in my writing and art will be worth nada. (I promise that wasn't a bribe to gain more reviews, I mean every word there. I fully appreciate all who support me and my fiction and you guys will never be forgotten.)

Gahh... I'm tearing up now. God, I'm so gushy lol. Anyway story. I advise you read chapter 5 &6 of 'Of King's and Thieves' as I do refer back to it in this chapter.

**Disclaimer:**

Yu-Gi-Oh is not mine but Cry of the Wolf has been copywrited to me...

**Lapis Luzali.**

**Chapter. 7: The Touch of a Vagabond.**

It was difficult for her to separate the horizon of the golden sands of the desert from the caresses of the equally golden fingers of the dawn sun. Yet Mana pressed onward regardless. She had travelled since the night's third watch, heading for the cavernous regions hidden deep in the harsh wilderness. To a place that Mahado had taken her when she had first begun her training. Somewhere where she could be alone to practice her heka. To think. And to mourn.

She had avoided Atem since the incident, almost five days ago now. Afraid that he might be able to penetrate her carefully constructed walls of anger. Reach through to her and make her listen to reason. She didn't want that. She wanted to be angry. Wanted to be childish. And above all, she wanted to hate him...

A sigh shuddered through her. She didn't hate him. She couldn't. Atem meant the whole world to her, and she had been bound to him by a Blood-Oath since her birth. She just needed time to be alone and to think things through. No-one but Mahado and her own hand maiden, Khyan, knew of her destination, and neither would share the knowledge unless fearing her safety.

For a youngster, her stamina was amazing. She had stopped only once to snatch an hour or two of sleep, take a drink from her water skin and eat a few bites of the dried meats and bread rations that the soldiers usually ate. She had travelled for over a day, driven on by the call of solitude and the promise of sanctuary, the very states that she craved.

Finally she spotted the rocky rises of the 'Mage's Retreat' as she had dubbed it, rising from the heat-haze. Though close she still had a fair way to travel. Out of the way of the smoothed road of traders yet close enough to it to offer security from bandits and cut-throats. A perfect spot to train.

Suddenly, Mana paused. She lifted her head and glanced around her. A sudden unease had gripped her. She couldn't be sure, but she felt something terrible had happened here. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply.

Evil.

The air even smelled evil.

She shuddered, feeling slightly disturbed. Was she being watched? Scanning the vast desert proved that she was indeed alone. With a little whimper of reluctance, Mana relaxed her body, opening her mind and her soul, ready to detect any presence or lingering Ka that she was certain was here. Watching her.

Taking one cautious step after another and keeping her eyes closed, she neared the spot. A voice whispered past her ear. No actual words, just a harsh hissing sound.

Mana wrapped her arms tightly around her chest and shivered despite the rapidly warming Egyptian morning. Goose-pimples pricked along her arms. "Something terrible happened here." she murmured to no-one in particular. "So many lost and forgotten Ka's. This is not right." She lifted her foot. "They are all so angry-" her words died in her throat.

Then she heard screaming.

It took her a moment to realize that her throat hurt and that the scream was that of the shrill voice of a woman. Her. When her foot had touched the sand, the pain of death ravaged her small frame. It almost felt as though some unseen force were tearing her apart. She felt their deaths and became the voice of those poor unfortunate souls who had perished here.

Falling to her knees, Mana's hands went to her hair, balling into fists and pulling on the strands caught between her fingers. Curling in upon herself, she tried to force the doorways to her mind and soul to close, forcing the flash-flood of agony out of her body before it overwhelmed her. As the pain began to ebb, she scuttled backward. Away from the cursed spot, she panted and the pain fell away completely, though the voices still drifted, hissing and cursing her in their wordless tongues.

"What transpired here?"

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Atem couldn't concentrate. In fact, her really wasn't trying to.

The fact that one of the nobles had filed for a new plot of land really was of little interest to him. He absently tugged on his earlobe, a habit he had developed when he was a child. He only made this action when he was not listening or he was feeling irritated and intolerable. Right now, every cause that the ear tugging stood for effected him.

The cause of his frustration... Mana.

She had been avoiding him.

Every time he sent for her, the messenger returned with a feeble excuse. She was meditating. Her moon had come and she felt rather unwell. Once, the reply was simply she did not wish to see him and would he cease his summons. To that, he almost flew to her chambers to force her to speak with him. With tremendous effort, he had reined his temper back into check and waved the servant away.

Siamun watched his King from the corner of his eye and frowned. He had attempted to discourage the habit since it had first developed in Atem's childhood and he had believed that he had succeeded. Evidently he had not. Stepping forward, the aging man cleared his throat. "This matter is of no great importance. The Pharaoh tires of it. Tell his Lord, Memm that his Majesty will return to him with news of his decision in ten days. One Egyptian week. If your Master continues to pester then he shall be denied his request outright."

The slave of Lord Memm bowed and retreated from the throne-room.

Waving a hand to dismiss the ever present guards, Siamun turned to his young Pharaoh. "Something vexes you."

Atem blinked slowly at his Vizier, barely contemplating that the man had spoken.

"Something troubles Pharaoh. Something so terrible that it distracts him from such enthralling tasks as confirming new land to his nobles and listening to his Priests insistent pressings for you to find a Queen to bare the fruit of your royal loins." Siamun's eyes twinkled with fond teasing. He had been the one to birth the young man, he held the naked, squalling lump of flesh before even the boy's father. He had changed many of his swaddle-sheets and he had been urinated upon almost as often. Atem looked to the old man as more a grandfather than simply a Vizier. And the old man loved him as one of his own.

"How could you know something had vexed me so?" Atem demanded and shifted in his seat.

"I have my ways." Siamun indicated to his ear.

Atem groaned and slumped back. Now he knew, the old man was like a dog with an old bone, he would pester until Atem cracked. Gnawing away at him until his last nerve snapped. "Can I just have five minutes to myself first? I need a little peace."

The old man shook his head. "I did not teach you your lessons without learning a few of your tricks. If I leave you be, I shall never know. Now, the sooner you tell me, the sooner we can discover a solution."

"Very well," The young Pharaoh pushed himself upright, grimacing slightly at the tight pain caused by the flesh that scarred his collar. "It is about a girl..."

"A future Queen to bare the fruits of your loins..."

Atem narrowed his eyes at the old man. "Will you allow me to finish my sentence before you race ahead down the wrong path?" Despite his sharp tone, he smiled. "And the less said about my loins the better. "It is Mana. I have upset her and now she will not talk to me."

Siamun raised a brow knowingly. "Come now, Majesty. I may be old but I am sharper than you could ever hope to be at my age. I have seen the way you look at her. I have seen the way she looks at you."

Atem froze. Staring at the old man, unsure if he had just been insulted, and surprised by the sudden statement. He opened his mouth to retort but was disrupted by Priest Mahado entering the throne-room. He strode to the centre of the room before dropping to his knee and pressing his fist to his left breast. "Forgive my intrusion, my King. But I bring distressing news. A clan of Sand Wanderers have been massacred out to the east of your kingdom. Torn completely asunder. This is no ordinary killing, but an un-necessarily brutal blood-bath."

Atem bolted upright and stared at the man who he once followed like a puppy, bowing before him. He had never been comfortable to see his old play-mate on his knees before him and, even now, he hurried the Priest to rise. "What are you saying, Mahado?" he questioned. "What do you think is the reasoning behind it?"

"I do not know, Majesty." Mahado admitted lowering his head again, though he slowly stood. "Perhaps a battle between conflicting tribes. Perhaps an omen. I cannot be certain."

"If it is merely a territorial battle between tribes, why do you rush this matter to Pharaoh's notice? Surely the less Sand Wanderers the better?" Siamun suggested.

Mahado turned to face the aging vizier, though his tone remained steady and emotionless, his eyes gleamed almost neon with worry. "Because Mana is out there, alone. She is not strong enough to fend of that many villains and," he paused turning back to Atem. "Isis told me." he said simply.

Atem balked. Priestess Isis knew too? He hissed between his clenched teeth and pressed a hand to his forehead in frustration. Of course Isis would know, Mana would turn to her for help. He gave himself a firm shake, snapping himself from his own petty concerns. He pushed himself from his throne and strode from the room, placing a hand to the Magus' shoulder and guiding him along side him. "Come Mahado," he said softly, "We shall find her."

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"I remember you." the voice rasped and the grip tightened around her chin, forcing her to stare ahead of her.

Mana swallowed. She had been asleep in the cavern, replenishing her energies when he had grabbed her and roughly awoken her. And now she was being held captive by some scoundrel.

"You're the Magus's apprentice, and pet to the Pharaoh. Strayed a little too far from your master's sides, do you not think, Whelp?"

Mana trembled in his grasp and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew the voice, but her mind could not draw a face to match it.

"I did not appreciate that spell you cast against me. Distracted me long enough for that guard to loose a bolt into me. That was quite uncomfortable." the voice chuckled and grew stronger as his lips moved closer to her ear. Mana panicked, he was too close. She could not remember who he was but she knew that this situation was incredibly dangerous.

A spell spilled from her lips, tripping over the words, she cringed. A mis-cast. As she re-launched into the spell, she barely noticed his hand move to her throat until her words died in a strangulated gasp.

"Now now. We cannot be having you casting against me a second time. If I hear another word that I believe to be a spell, I will crush your wind-pipe." he tightened his grip again briefly. "Do you understand?"

He didn't expect her to answer and he blinked slowly, almost lazily, at the back of her head in surprise as she nodded.

"Good girl. Now, I believe proper introductions are in order. Would you not agree?" Without waiting for an answer, he spun her to face him.

Muddy red orbs bore into her own emerald ones, long white hair spilled to his shoulders. His lips curled into a confident, if arrogant, smirk and a grid like scar adorned his left cheek. Mana's eyes narrowed briefly, then they flew open. Wide with confusion and terror. "You?!" she hissed. "But, you are dead. I watched the guards carry you away myself."

Bakura snorted in amusement. "Evidently I am not." he pushed his face a little closer to hers. "Either that guard was an extremely poor shot. Or I am very fine sport." He licked his lips and eyed her form. "I shall let you decide which for yourself." He lowered his gaze to her breast. Sun-light winked off the golden pendent of Hathor that dangled there and his smirk widened. "A maiden. How fortunate for me. I was searching for a fine vessel in which to plant my seed. And I do so prefer a maiden's touch."

Mana swallowed awkwardly, he was so close. "B-but, good Sir, those brothel girls. You are not widely admired by the women of this land for those killings." she stammered as his face loomed over hers.

Bakura grinned. "Whores. Do not compare my romantic strategies to those I use against whores. Do not class me so ignorant that I can not tell a common brothel girl from a lady. But, I tell you now," he lifted a brow suggestively. "None had a bad word against me for their pleasures."

She flushed. Why was she blushing? She was terrified, yet he was seductive and beautiful, and he was luring her into his dangerous game. re-collecting her wits she met his gaze with a look of defiance. "I fear, my Lord, that you are wasting your interests upon me. I am betrothed to another." A lie. But would it work?

Bakura paused briefly at this and pondered a moment... then he shivered in delight. "Forbidden fruit." he murmured. "That only excites me more." His hand slid up her throat to cup her chin and tilt her face to him, his other arm snaked around her, gripping both her wrists easily in one hand and used them to force her hard up against him.

Mana wriggled and fought and struggled desperately for escape, but his grip was iron hard.

"Feisty too." he purred and pulled her face so close to his that she could taste his breath. Warm and heady, like a strong wine. "A perfect vessel for my seed."

Suddenly she felt a pressure upon her lips, blinking slowly she realized he was kissing her. An involuntary whimper bubbled up her throat and she tried to pull away. He was firm yet surprisingly gentle, drawing her into him so completely that she almost pressed back. His tongue lifted and brushed at her lips so gently, he almost seemed to be begging her permission. When she denied him, his mouth twitched and his tongue came back stronger, more insistent than before and forcibly parted her lips.

To her horror, her body betrayed her and folded itself into this vagabond, pressing so hard into him that she could feel his heartbeat tripping against her shoulder. Bakura's advances were far more bold than the shy touches of Atem.

Atem...

Her head jerked back away from Bakura's addictive taste and, after twisting one hand free, she lashed out.

The slap echoed around them and Bakura recoiled slightly, a flicker of outrage touched his eyes before his smirk returned. "A fighter." he murmured. "You will make for a more satisfying bed-mate than those brothel girls. Copulation is far more enjoyable when the girl fights back and puts her all in to it. More of a triumph on my part than simply over-powering those who desire it." He leaned in again. Paused. His eyes narrowed and slid off to the side as he cocked his head. tracking a sound that was almost inaudible with animalistic ease.

His eyes swept back to hers and he bared his teeth in a grin. "I shall take my leave, my Lady. But do not mistake my leaving as an indefinite parting. I meant what I said, you will make for an enjoyable bed-mate." He leaned to her lips and stole a sly peck, ducking a second swing of her hand as he did so. Wheeled and bolted out into the desert.

Mana fell to her knees in shock. There was no doubt in her mind that he would come back for her and, if that straining beneath his kilt was of any indication, that she had been in very real danger of him mounting her there and then...

... If it had not been for the sound of horses approaching.

Sunlight glinted off of a shining white pelt and, for a moment, she feared the thief's courage had returned. Her breath caught briefly before she caught a flash of black hair, tipped with magenta, that crowned the young Pharaoh's head, as Swift crested the horizon.

"Mana." Atem's voice carried, full of power, over the distance between them. "You should not have left the Palace. It is not safe for you out here alone." He dismounted from Swift's back before she slowed from her gallop, stumbling into a flat out sprint and gathered her up into his arms.

She buried her face into his collar as a little sob escaped her lips.

Atem blinked back his surprise, after these last five days of her avoiding him, he hardly expected her to be so pleased to see him. "M-Mana? What is it?" Wrapping his arms around her, he could feel tiny tremors. "What is wrong?" he soothed.

"He... The..." she swallowed and pulled back to stare directly into Atem's face, blinking back her tears. "He is not dead."

Atem frowned, clearly not comprehending. "Who?"

Shaking her head Mana hissed in frustration. "The murderer. The one that attacked and stabbed you. He tried to kill you. He slue so many of your people in cold blood. He is still very much alive."

Realization seeped into Atem's eyes. "Bakura..."

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Dun dun dun.

Cliff hanger... Okay a few extra notes. No this is not shaping into a Mana/Bakura pairing. No this does not necessarily mean Mana has forgiven Atem. If you are confused as to why Bakura actually played a role in this chappy, it's because he is essential to continue this plot. I'm sad to say there is only two (at most, maybe one) chapter(s) left in this fic. Maybe I shall milk it but I don't know yet.

Aww for the cute ear-tugging habit of Atem too.

Read and Review.

Stay Smexy.

xXx

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	8. An Apprentice's Offering

**Author's Note:**

Alright I have discovered several surprising things since my last chapter.

First surprise. I have discovered that I have been mis-spelling Lapis Lazuli since the very beginning. (Not surprised really) However, I shall continue to mis-spell it for consistency. Take that, English language. I defy thee.

Surprise the second. Due to plot and continuation of the story, I am having to write a second citrus chapter. (Fairly surprised.) The main reason is because I refuse for Atem to remain a virgin where Bakura has bedded and slaughtered eight (that we know of. Bakura may be a man-whore and bedded more but my official tally is eight so far.) dancing/brothel girls.

And, finally, episode 3: The return of the Surprise. I was researching Atem's name and discovered this little snippet... 'Even the gods had sex in ancient Egypt. Ra (in the form of Atem) masturbated his children Shu and Tefnut into existence! (Jaw hit the floor in surprise. Ewwww, Atem!)

Atem is he who masturbated in Iunu (On, Heliopolis). He took his phallus in his grasp that he might create orgasm by means of it, and so were born the twins Shu and Tefnut.'

-- Pyramid Text 1248-49

Weirdness. O-o

Everyone seems to want a wedding... Well, let us see what happens. I'm in a compromising mood...

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! I wish I did... but I do not...

**Lapis Luzali.**

**Chapter. 8: An Apprentice's Offering.**

It was in the darkness before the dawn that the Priestess Isis bathed in the cool waters of the pool in the Palace gardens. Often she rose before the Gods themselves to bathe, enjoying the stillness that would remain for a few hours yet. Removing her robe, Isis gracefully lowered herself into the bitter waters without uttering so much as a squeak against the bite.

Her eyes slid shut and she smiled softly. '_It is so peaceful,_' Cupping the chill pellets in her hands, she dribbled the liquid down her upper arms and breasts. '_So beautiful. How this land of Egypt should be... before the Disc of Ra ascends and spills his golden seed upon her. Exposing the wounds that our petty lives have inflicted her with._'

The Priestess struck out. Her strokes graceful and silent, not even her own ears caught the sound of the waters whispers against her skin. Reaching the far bank, Isis rolled, then paused. The light was strong enough now for her to make out every detail of the young woman, whom she loved as a sister, standing on the opposing shore. Arms folded over her chest, and her eyes of burning green downcast in a sign of respect for the bathing Priestess.

"Good morning, Mana. May Hathor love you for all of your days."

"And may Hathor love you also, my Lady." The words were strained.

Isis chuckled softly. "You need not be so formal Mana," She slid through the waters with the ease of a fish. As she neared the bank, Isis frowned. There was something the matter, it was obvious on the young woman's face. "What is it?"

The apprentice shook her head, attempting to dismiss her concerns. "It is nothing. I... I am not even sure why I have come here. I can not sleep. And when I do,_ He_ dominates my dreams. I can see _him_... Hear_ him_... Taste_ him_, and it frightens me."

Isis lifted herself from the pool and gathered her robe from the ground. Slipping it over her head to cover her still wet form, she tied the thick golden cord around her tapered waist, drawing the shapeless material to fit her curves. Eying the younger woman carefully as she continued.

"He made a vow to me. A vow and a threat..."

Isis cocked her brow. "A threat..?" She remembered Mana telling her of the vow Pharaoh had pledged to her after unintentionally breaking her maidenhead. But a threat...? Pharaoh would not threaten her... "He threatened you?"

"He said he would return to me. He has been searching for a vessel in which to plant his seed..."

Isis shook her head. She was confused. Mana's words were so vague to the story she already knew. Placing her hands on the girls shoulders, Isis maneuvered her so she stood directly in front of her. "He said he would return to you? To plant his seed..? He has sworn to correct his error, Mana. Not to complicate it further. Pharaoh wou-"

Mana's eyes widened in horror. "No! Not Tem... Not Pharaoh." she caught herself before calling Atem by the pet name that only she addressed him by. "Someone else." she murmured.

Isis sighed. They were running in circles. Chasing the tail of the conversation. "Who?"

Mana just stared at the older woman. Tears formed in her eyes and she furiously blinked them away. "You would not believe me, even if I were to tell you his name." She mumbled miserably. "So it does not matter." Idly, the young apprentice fingered the golden Hathor pendent around her throat. Conflict between her fears and her wants clouded her eyes, dulling the usually shining green. "The only one who would believe me, I can not tell."

Finally after what seemed like hours, though it was probably only minutes, of silence that passed between them, Mana glanced up at the Priestess and gave a tiny, tired smile. "No one ever warned me that this would be so hard." The smile was fleeting and was quickly replaced by the somber expression of one who had learned; just how cruel the world could be, far too swiftly in their short life. Her fingers continued to fondle the golden cow head as her eyes fell and slid from Isis's gaze, as though she were puzzling something out for herself.

Somewhere in the distant corner of the Palace gardens, a rooster crowed.

"Is there a way...?"

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Atem roused himself slowly. He contemplated simply turning over and attempting to fall sleep again... His lids pressed themselves together once more and his mind drifted...

_"Always were the sentimental fool, weren't you Atem?" He cast a cautious glance from left to right at the guards on ether side. Their hands on hilts. His lip curled. "Always looking for the good in the actions of those you love." _

_He spun on his heel as he reached into his robe. Spinning a complete circle, his arms spread wide. Atem stared blankly, almost hypnotized by the grace and feline elegance the thief possessed. Barely aware when he stopped turning. He blinked hard, once. Breaking free from his trance and noticing the short sword in Bakura's hand for the first time, he must have pulled it during the spin, the fire-hardened tip pointing downwards, crimson smeared the blade._

_Jerking his head sharply, he stared in horror at the two guards. They clawed at their throats, pink tinted blood bubbles gurgled through the torn flesh before their eyes rolled back into their skulls and they crumpled to the ground, twitching._

_"Tell me Pharaoh. Could you find something worth defending in that action?"_

_Before the shock had lifted from either his or his two priests minds, Bakura's face was inches from his own. He was so fast, he hadn't even seen him move. Then Atem was aware of the searing pain racing through his arms and across his shoulders. Glancing down, he saw why they hurt and why Bakura's snarling face was so close to his. The thief was standing on his wrists, pinning them painfully to the armrests._

_With a bellow of pain and outrage, Atem struggled violently. Until the sharp, blood-stained sword tip slid under his chin. Lifting Pharaoh's head and skewering his glare with his own, Bakura felt a surge of triumph shudder through him. Atem flinched beneath that predatory gaze. _

_"You really are a murderer, aren't you?" he breathed in a rhetorical question. "You've sold your soul to Mafdet."_

_Bakura shook his head and tutted in self-mockery, his face almost playful. Then it hardened again. "So has all of Egypt!" He whipped his wrist up and the blade bit into the flesh on Atem's chin, slicing it open. _

_"Oh dear... I've cut you." his eyes narrowed dangerously. "What a pity."_

Pharaoh clawed at his blankets and fought to break free of the dreams hold. He didn't want to re-live this. He wanted Bakura to still be dead in his mind...

_Blood dribbled from the split, down his throat and stained his bleached white tunic. "You murdered the innocent. You face the death penalty."_

_He grinned. "Do I now?"_

_"Justice must be done!"_

_"Justice!?" Bakura snarled bitterly. "You would have me murdered for executing those who murdered innocents of my village? Be it wittingly or unwittingly."_

_"I would have you executed for murdering the innocents." Atem corrected._

_Bakura growled in frustration and jammed his elbow into his collar. "Execution is murder. Murder is execution. It is a double-edged blade. No matter the side you are on, there is another on the other. Tell me Pharaoh, are my actions so very different from yours? You execute those who do harm to your people, as I do so for mine. So surely we both seek justice." _

In his own perverse way. The thief was right. His actions were very much the same as those of his and every Pharaoh before him. Atem fought harder to awaken, but the dream had such a hold of him for a reason. Something he had to see... Had to know... And until then, it would not relinquish its grasp.

_He pushed his face closer to Atem's, and the Pharaoh could see something dimming Bakura's eyes. He took in every twitch and tremble of the thief's body, and he misinterpreted it as somewhere, beneath the rage and hurt, his old playmate existed still. "You are not thinking straight, my friend-" he paused abruptly. Bakura shook his head vigorously, as though there was water lodged deep in his ear canal. _

_"Oh, but I am. And I see right through your pathetic attempt of appeal to my better side."_

_Atem's face hardened again. "You have killed and killed again." he breathed, his voice dangerously low._

_" How many have been killed for you to sit where you do? How many more will die for you to remain there?" Bakura snatched the pendent around Atem's neck and pushed it under his nose. "How many souls have been denied their rightful passage to the afterlife to make this gold? Answer me this Pharaoh!"_

_He fell quiet. Refusing to even look at the thief._

_"I can still hear them. Still hear the death screams of every man, woman and child of Kul Elna. It haunts my dreams." He narrowed his eyes to slits and raised his sword over his head. "One more voice added to the choir won't make much of a difference." _

That was it.

His eyes burst open and Atem bolted upright. The shaking of Bakura's head, he had continued the actions throughout the whole attack. Closing his eyes he pinched the sleep from the corners. There had to be a reason for it...

He stretched to his full length along the couch, splaying even his fingers and toes, relishing in every pop and crack his body emitted. Then he slid from beneath the blankets and padded toward the dozing slave in the corner, slight surprise marred his features, _'Since when has a servant taken terminate residence in my chambers_?' Standing before her, Atem cleared his throat.

The woman squeaked and started to her feet, lifting her gaze to his before adverting her eyes in respect. "Excuse my intrusion my Pharaoh. Lord Seto sent me to fetch you, but you were sleeping and... and," she threw herself at his bare feet. "Forgive me Majesty. Lord Seto said I was not to return without you."

Atem stepped back. "You will take a message to Lord Seto," he told the woman sternly as she scrambled to her feet. "Tell him, Pharaoh will rise, when he is ready. Pharaoh will address a Priest, when he is ready. A Priest should know his place and that is at the side of Pharaoh and not ahead. If he wishes to speak with me, he should come to me when I am seated upon the throne and not when I am sleeping."

The servant nodded and stood there, waiting to be dismissed. With a wave of his hand, Atem turned away and the woman scuttled swiftly away. He growled a sigh as he snatched his kilt from the stool and hoisted it over his hips, his mind returning to his dream. What did it mean?

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Mana was distracted.

The marks on the papyrus scrolls stopped making sense to her a while back now and she was just staring at them out of habit. Mahado frowned at his student, she had been so withdrawn and quiet lately. He had noticed the shift in her personality since before Isis informed of the girls interest in the Pharaoh. Though he did not know the whole story, he felt Isis had glossed over a few details, he understood something had gone terribly wrong.

Perhaps the young woman would open up to him.

"Mana,"

She blinked and wrinkled her nose, before going back to her scrolls.

He sighed. She hadn't heard him. "Mana." He tried again, this time a little louder. The apprentice lifted her head and stared at him. "Master?"

Mahado sidled closer to her. "Is everything alright? You seem a little unfocused." He waved his hand over the scroll she had been studying. "You have been reading the same passage for some time now. Do you feel ready to attempt it?"

She blinked hard at the hieroglyphs and frowned, they looked vaguely familiar and the spell seemed simple enough. Her lips moved soundlessly over the words, testing the feel of each syllable on her tongue before shrugging. She took a breath then began to recite the spell. Finishing the chant, she cracked an eye... Nothing.

Mahado shook his head. "A mis-cast." He took the scroll from her and set it carefully aside before kneeling. "It it a simple spell Mana, one you have cast many times before." His ice blue eyes softened. "Something is bothering you and it is effecting your lessons. I may be your Master but I am still your friend." An edge of concern crept into his voice.

Mana remained silent, just staring of into the middle distance with unfocused eyes. Then a forced smile touched her lips. "I am fine, Master. Just feeling a little drained."

Mahado nodded. She wouldn't say anymore without persuasion and he had no idea how to proceed. He was not comfortable in these sorts of situations, coaxing someone to speak when they were quite obviously not interested in doing so. "It is quite understandable. You have had a trying few days. Would you like to rest? We can continue these lessons at a later stage."

Mana nodded and rose stiffly. She took one step forward, toward Mahado and opened her mouth to speak. Then she paused and turned on her heel, walking from the Magus's chambers. Mahado sighed softly and idly touched the Millennium Ring around his neck. He had a very bad feeling that with Bakura seemingly returning from the dead and the slaughtered Sand Wanderer Tribe, Egypt was on the cusp of one of the mightiest battles she had ever known.

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Atem snarled softly in frustration as he stalked through the darkened corridors. He felt physically and emotionally drained. Siamun had confirmed his suspicions that Bakura's spasms and twitches during his attack indicated something had been administered to him and because of the concentration of head shaking, Siamun believed that to be the point of administration. Together, both Pharaoh and Vizier had spent the whole day researching the scrolls of potions and draughts and discovered an elixir that matched the few key points that they had gathered.

The Elixir of Anubis...

Administered through the ear canal, the elixir brought on the appearance of death, though left to ferment too long in the body and it would kill. The erratic movement must have been the thief's attempts to slow the effects. But the very notion that Bakura was able to mix such a dangerous and precise potion astounded him. And disturbed him.

He rounded into his quarters and paused abruptly...

... Someone was in here.

He squinted through the darkness and could barely make out a woman's profile in the shadows. He had forgotten about his Priests summons, and he growled. Lord Seto, obviously angry at the Pharaoh's snub, had ignored his message and sent the servant girl back.

Atem tore his tunic over his head and flung it to the floor. He was in no mood for this. "Leave. Now!" He fumbled with the golden cuffs around his wrists and they swiftly joined his discarded tunic on the floor. The woman had ignored his order, but he could now tell she was watching him. Atem couldn't help it, his temper snapped. Spinning to glare through the darkness at the woman, he snarled coldly. "I have issued you with an order, or are you so simple that you cannot understand that as you seem unable to understand-"

He balked. The woman stood directly in front of him now. She had moved during his rage and was pressing her lips to his, breaking his rant in mid-sentence. He trembled in outrage. '_How dare she!? A servant-_' He paused. The shy touch, he recognized it. Lifting his tongue, he coaxed her lips to part. Carefully he invaded her mouth, tasted her, and shuddered.

Breaking away, Atem carefully lifted his hand and traced his fingers over her features. "Mana..?" He heard her open her mouth to speak, deciding there and then words would destroy what they had just shared Atem lunged, capturing her lips once more. He had missed her so much. Missed this.

Mana raised her hands to his chest, running her fingers to his shoulders and pushed. He blinked in surprise, peering through the darkness at her as he obeyed and stepped back. She turned her back to him and began to walk away. "Do not go. Forgive me. Just..." He cursed himself. His voice sounded so pathetic to his own ears, but she was walking away from him again. "... Do not leave me again. Please."

"I am not going far, Temmy. I will return."

He jerked his head back. Temmy. She called him Temmy, like she used to. His stomach churned with excitement and fear. Had she forgiven him?

True to her word, Mana returned. In her hand she held an oil lamp, it's flame throwing out a soft glow over her. Padding closer she carefully lowered it onto the chest that stood alongside his couch. And returned to face him.

Atem cocked his head in confusion, watching the shadows rise and fall against her face. Her lashes were lowered and there was a definite tint to her cheeks. "Mana..?"

"I have something that I wish to give to you." She murmured and lifted her eyes to meet his and slowly raised her hands behind her neck. Bowing her head down as she lifted her golden pendent from her neck. Atem swallowed awkwardly. Mana held the delicate talisman out to him and smiled. "I want you to have this. You are meant to have it."

"But," Atem croaked and lifted the item from her hands. "But this is proof of your womanhood. Hathor watches over women and enables your fertility. She symbolizes motherhood-"

"I am aware of that. My giving this to you, means I place my womanhood in your hands. I have had time to think about what happened that day Temmy. And I now know just how foolish my actions were. I ran away. Frightened, because I thought what we had done was wrong. I know better now. I offer my womanhood to you, if you would still accept it."

Atem stared at her, his mouth falling open. He willed the words that he wanted to say from his mind but his lips and tongue refused. The silence dragged on longer still and Mana's confidence wavered. Her head fell forward to her chest. "I understand."

The apprentice raised her hand to pluck her necklace from Atem's hand but his fingers closed around it. Lifting her head, Mana stared at her Pharaoh in confusion. Then he pulled her hard into him, his mouth closing around hers once more. His hand moved from her fingers and snaked around her back, his other slid to her hip and cupped her. Breaking the kiss, Atem rested his forehead against hers. "I accept."

Mana had a sudden notion to laugh at that. Comparing the emotionless, flat answer to the passion and ferocity in his kiss was like comparing the harsh desert drought to annual flood of the Niles waters. Both were complete opposites of the other. She lifted her head and pressed her face into his throat, murmuring and moving her body softly against his.

Atem's eyes flew open. "Mana," he tried to gently push her away. "I gave you my promise that I would undo what I did to you. I cannot-"

"I release you from that promise." Her voice was soft and she lifted her face to his. "Please, Temmy." Her lips quivered as though she were on the verge of tears. Her hands slid lower to his belly, circling her fingers slowly around his belly-button. She leaned and captured his lips again, her tongue mimicking her fingers actions. He moaned softly and tried to arch away from her as he felt his loins swell and stiffen, trying to hide it from her. Mana made a soft sound, forbidding him from avoiding her and pulled aside his kilt, reaching inside to find and capture him.

He moaned again and shuddered as she allowed his kilt to fall away, and surrendered to her touch as she stroked him. His own fingers fumbled with the knot of her skirts at her hip, furious when the thing denied him what he desired. With a growl against her lips, he raked his nails into the tied cloth, snagging the material and pulling. It fell away and his hands immediately reached for her rear, enclosing one buttock in each, and he marvelled at their firm softness. Atem's lips moved to Mana's throat and he took a step forward, forcing her to take a step back until her calves hit the couch. His mouth quirked as he leaned and toppled them onto the cushions, her thighs spread to accommodate him between them. As his mouth moved on her throat, Mana was aware of his hand cupping around her breast. She cried out softly as his fingers stroked and tugged at her through the tunic.

Then it moved. His hand was slowly making its way down her body, over her ribs and belly, and moving lower still. She whimpered as the fingers tickled over her hip and inner thigh, and then it was gone. He shifted onto his knees. Creeping closer so his face hovered over hers. Eyes half-lidded and his lips pursed slightly. She could feel him resting upon the slight mound between her thighs. His fingers brushed against her absently as he moved to grip himself at the base, preparing himself.

Leaning down her, Atem gently touched his lips to her forehead. She was trembling. "We can stop now if you are not ready." He offered, stroking the backs of his fingers along her cheek. Mana swallowed, and shook her head. His heart went out to her for her bravery. Lifting himself from resting upon her, her lowered his hips so that his tip just parted her.

A sudden whimper bubbled from her lips and he paused. Threading his free arm beneath her head, Atem murmured softly. "I promise. I won't hurt you." His lips brushed hers as she felt him move again. She managed to hold back her cries as he slid deeper until she felt something pull inside her.

He froze. Something was blocking his path. Something that should not be there. Glancing down the space between them, his eyes widened with surprise and uncertainty, Atem breathed. "Your maidenhead... I did not break it before." He shuddered, his body was urging him on. Telling him to bury himself fully and just take her. Fighting it proved to be extremely difficult. Lifting his head back to Mana's, the fear and conflict broiled in his crimson orbs. "Do... Do you still want me to?"

Tears dotted her cheeks, and glistened where her lashes trapped them. "Yes." she whimpered. "Do it. Please."

He pulled back slightly, took a deep breath to steady his nerves and...

...She arched beneath him. A hiss against the sting, and then the wonderful feeling of fullness. The pain was fleeting, giving way to other, more pleasant feelings. Lowering himself onto her, Atem nuzzled at her shoulder, murmuring his apologies. Surprised to find her tunic was still in place. He lifted his body from hers, but keeping them joined, he gently tugged the tunic from her. Her thighs automatically lifted, wrapping her legs about his hips so her heels hooked into his rear and held him close. Glancing down at her, he noticed he could see what he was doing. He gave an experimental thrust.

She whimpered.

A smile tugged at his lips. He lay one hand over the curve in her pelvis, spanning his fingers and slipping his thumb over a tiny nub of flesh, ready to aid him in pleasing her, should he need it. His other cupped her hip. Pulling himself deeper into her. From the sounds she was making and the way her fingers clawed, she was enjoying herself as much as he was. And, to his delight, she began meeting him thrust for thrust.

Before too long, Atem felt a ball of pressure building from his loins and spreading round to the small of his back, and suddenly, watching himself disappearing into her wasn't so important anymore. He wanted to be close to her. Laying back down he drove harder, his lips pressing to her throat. His breathing as erratic and laboured as hers as the pressure grew to an almost unbearable strength. His lids slammed shut and his mouth opened in a soft howl as wave after wave of languid warmth enveloped him. His whole body shuddered with the release and Mana returned his cry with one of her own as she spasmed beneath him.

With arms that felt like jelly and legs that felt like marble, Atem managed to maneuver himself so he could collapsed beside her rather than squashing her beneath him. Mana turned to face him. A soft smile and half-lidded eyes rolled to meet her. He looked exhausted but content. Lifting his arm so she could cuddle close to him, he hummed softly against her forehead.

"M'na..." he mumbled, too lazy to lift his head fully from the cushion he had fallen on and was currently muffling his words.

"Mmmh?" She was feeling too lazy for actual words.

"M'st speak... with Is's t'morrow." he sighed and pulled her closer. "M'st organ'ze a more permi'ate... arrangement for you h're."

"Mmmm."

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Arrrrrgh! Stupid chapter. Took me forever to write. AND then the bloody computer decided to freeze on me... THRICE (3 times)!! I lost (in effect) the whole chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. And I did warn of Lemon, and boy was it lemony...

And aha. Atem didn't break her maiden head in an earlier chapter, it was just a smear of blood indicating he had damaged it slightly, but he's cute when he freaks out. It was plotted from then. And no, Mana is not running from Atem to Bakura and back again. She had a chat with Isis in the start (I didn't write the whole conversation, I couldn't bare to write it three times!!) and they sorted out the issues between Atem and Mana, (though Mana is hiding Bakura's threat from Atem...)

Anyway's

Read and Review.

Stay Smexy.

xXx


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